This is our second lecture in the course Shakespeare the
Christian. In this lecture, we continue the topic of our
first lecture and consider the third of the three objections to a Christian approach to Shakespeare. The first objection was that Shakespeares plays do not present a Christian ethic. The second was that Shakespeares plays are not specifically religious. We offered brief answers to both of these objections in our previous lecture. Now it is time to consider the third, and perhaps the most important objection, that Christianity and tragedy are incompatible. I say that this may be the most important objection because there is so much discussion of tragedy, going all the way back to Plato and Aristotle. As a dramatic form tragedy has its own special attraction and its own special riddles. The greatest riddle may be the very fact that we are attracted to tragedy. Why should we get pleasure from watching other peoples lives fall apart? What is it about tragedy that is entertaining? This is one of the basic questions about tragedy that has to be considered. But before we think about detailed questions, we have to ask what exactly tragedy is. We have to ask the question, because much of the debate about tragedy concerns the problem of definition. You will remember that we quoted the philosopher Karl Jaspers, who stated that no genuinely Christian tragedy can exist. Jaspers is able to make such a dogmatic declaration because he has a definition of tragedy which, in the nature of the case, rules out the possibility of a Christian tragedy. Of course, if he wants to define the word tragedy in that way, he may. But there is nothing particularly profound about defining Christianity out of the picture. When he goes on to claim that his definition gives us true insight into Shakespeares tragedies, I have to object. I think we can show that Shakespeares tragedies are clearly and distinctly Christian. Others define tragedy in terms of ancient Greek notions. Fate or the gods play an important, if not decisive, role. Good men, we are told, even apart from anything they may have done wrong are subject to forces that sometimes make a mockery of human life. The story of Oedipus illustrates this ancient Greek perspective well and is often presented as the typical ancient Greek tragedy. What we have, then, are different definitions of tragedy that reflect different worldviews. If we consider the basic questions that divide the various approaches to tragedy, we will gain insight into the way worldview and tragedy intersect and also see what kind of tragedy Shakespeare wrote. What, then, are the basic questions that divide these various views of tragedy? Well, I think that we can discuss most of the important issues by considering the following four questions. 1.) Does tragedy require or exclude the notion of ethical cause and effect? 2.) What is it that makes the tragedy tragic? 3.) Must the tragedy be final? May there be hints of a brighter future or resolution of some sort at the end of a tragedy? 4.) Why do we enjoy tragedy? So many philosophers have discussed the basic questions concerning tragedy that we cannot hope to do anything like a historical survey, though we will mention the views of a few philosophers. Our discussion will be brief and basically topical, but I trust it will help you think through these matters from a Christian perspective. What I would like to show is that our answers to questions of this sort are simply applications of our worldview. I think that you will be able to see that men define tragedy according to the way they view life as a whole. Keeping these questions in mind will allow us to consider how Shakespeare presented tragedy and consider whether his view was Christian or not. 1. So, we turn to the first question, Does tragedy exclude the notion of ethical cause and effect? The question itself may sound odd, so let me explain what it means. There are some people who insist that if a tragedy contains clear ethical cause and effect, it is no longer a tragedy. It becomes a simple story of a person reaping what he sowed. It is a mere moralistic tale and, they say, not very interesting. Thus, some maintain that true tragedy must be like the ancient story of Oedipus. The hero of the story is not without faults, but we cannot say that tragedy befell him because of some moral failure on his part. In the story of Oedipus, the king and queen of Thebes, Laius and Jacosta are shocked by the word of an oracle that their new born son will grow up to kill his father and marry his mother. They attempt to prevent this horror by killing the son, but the servant to whom they committed the job cannot carry it through. Though he has been ordered to leave the child on a mountain to die, he gives him to a shepherd. It happens, however, that this shepherd belongs to the house of the childless king of Corinth, Polybus. As it turns out, then, Oedipus does grow up as a Greek prince, but in the city of Corinth rather than Thebes. When he has grown to young manhood, he hears that Polybus is not his real father. He doesnt believe these words, but he visits the oracle at Delphi to find out the truth about himself. Here he is told the same story that his parents were told when he was born, that he would murder his father and marry his mother. Like his parents, he tries to prevent this awful outcome. Assuming that Polybus is his true father, Oedipus leaves Corinth and goes on a journey. Approaching the city of Thebes he is encountered by an old man who provokes Oedipus into a fight. He kills the old man and goes on toward the city of Thebes. Along the way he meets the Sphinx, a monster with a womans head and the body of a lion. The monster stands outside the city and asks everyone who travels in or out a riddle, if the traveler cannot solve, the Sphinx eats him. Oedipus solves the riddle and kills the Sphinx. This makes him a hero in the city of Thebes and he is rewarded with a bride, the queen of Thebes who was now a widow. However, because Oedipus, however unknowingly, has killed his father and married his mother, the city is plagued with judgments. Everyone knows something must be wrong, but no one knows why Thebes must suffer. In seeking the cause of Thebes miseries, Oedipus discovers the truth about himself. It is more than his mother can bear. She commits suicide. Oedipus puts his eyes out with her brooches and has himself exiled to become a beggar. It is certainly possible to find places where one might charge Oedipus with one fault or another. But the fact is that for the most part he is a man who only sought to do his duty. When he heard that he might be the perpetrator of a horrible crime, he immediately left all the luxury and glory that belonged to the prince of Corinth and went on a journey. The awful deeds that brought upon himself and others the curse of the gods, were accidents. He never intended to kill his father or marry his mother. The moral of the story seems to be that the world we live in is such a place that a basically good man, seeking to do nothing but his duty, may actually meet with the most outrageous tragedy. Of course, in ancient Greece, the story said something about the gods and mans knowledge of the gods and their ways. They seem to play with Oedipus and bring the most awful calamity upon him for no special reason. Is this the way the world really is? Do we face suffering and pain just because capricious gods or fate order it to be so? Obviously, from a Christian perspective the answer to these questions is no. But for some people, the world really is the kind of place depicted in the ancient Greek story of Oedipus. And if that is our view of the world, our definition of tragedy will correspond. Tragedy would be the kind of play that shows us what the world is actually like, a place in which our goodness or badness are irrelevant. In this view, we live in a world in which good and bad luck are dispensed at random, whether by the gods, by fate, or by the stars. A tragedy is a story about a relatively good person who was standing in the wrong line when luck was being passed out. The philosopher Schopenhauer represents many who hold this view of tragedy. According to him, In tragedy we are confronted with the terrible side of life, the misery of mankind, the dominion of accident and error, the fall of the just man, the triumph of the wicked: thus the condition of the world that is downright repugnant to our will is brought before our eyes. At this sight, we feel called upon to turn our will away from life, not to want it and love it anymore. Again, What lends to everything tragic, in whatever form it may appear, its peculiar impetus to elevation, is the dawning realization that the world, that life cannot grant any true satisfaction, and hence they do not deserve our attachment: in this consists the tragic spirit: hence it leads to resignation. Note that for Schopenhauer, tragedy is necessarily a story that in which ethics cannot supply a key. The lesson that he draws from tragedy, that we should give up our attachment to life and the world depends upon the fact that tragedy shows us that life in this world does not make good ethical sense. If this were a class on religion or philosophy, we might point out that Schopenhauer was very much influenced by Buddhism and that his view of tragedy in particular is Buddhist. We also might ask whether this view of the world and tragedy are satisfying? But the question we need to consider here is, Does this view fit the plays of William Shakespeare? And the answer is clear. It does not. For in Shakespearean tragedy, in every case, the tragic hero is clearly guilty of some sin or folly. In no play of Shakespeare are we led to conclude that we should give up our attachment to life. Though we may feel that a character in his play has suffered greatly and that characters suffering may provoke deep thoughts about suffering in our world, nothing in Shakespeares plays calls forth the despair with life that Schopenhauer expresses. Consider just the four great tragedies. Macbeth gave in to a sinful lust and brought destruction upon himself and many others, including innocent women and children. Lear lost his temper and in a fit of anger spoke rash words that brought ruin to his kingdom. Othello took in the false testimony of his false friend and was so filled with jealousy that he murdered his beloved wife. Hamlet discovered his uncles evil deeds and determined to take revenge, the worst sort of revenge. In every case, tragedy could have been prevented by different moral choices. If the hero had been wiser, if he had been more upright, he might have been saved from the tragedy that befell him. In no case do Shakespeares plays teach us to hate life and this world. Nor is the Christian view shallow, optimistic, Protestant-rationalistic as Schopenhauer charged. Both Protestants and Catholics believe in a world in which moral failure carries its own curse. In that sense the Christian view of tragedy may be called rational, for there is an explanation. There is what may be called moral cause and effect. But that does not make the Christian view shallow -- a mere moralistic statement that evil deeds will be punished -- nor does it erase the tragic dimension. The view espoused by Schopenhauer seems to undermine one of the most important aspects of tragedy -- a point which goes back to Aristotle and one on which we can agree with him -- that is, our sympathy with the hero. There must be some sense in which we feel affinity with the hero. We have to be able to relate to him. In Schopenhauers view of tragedy, we view a play in which good people suffer for no reason. Now we do know from our own life experience that suffering may come for apparently no reason. That is precisely the sort of suffering which it is most difficult for us to understand or relate to. What we more commonly experience and what we can easily relate to is suffering that comes from a foolish or rash decision or suffering that comes from giving in to a sinful impulse. We can sympathize with Shakespeares tragic heroes because they live and move in the world of moral causes -- a Christian world in which ones actions are moral and therefore have consequences. This leads us to our second question, what is it that makes tragedy tragic? What we have said in answer to the first question is part of the answer to the second. The fact that a hero makes an ethical choice is essential to tragedy. But it is not sufficient. A story of a person who makes a rash or foolish decision, or who gives in to temptation, or who follows his own lust would not in itself constitute a tragedy. The moral decision is necessary for the tragedy to be truly tragic because the character who makes the tragic decision or who does the tragic deed could have decided or done otherwise. It is a tragedy because it didnt have to be. Things could have been different. One aspect of tragedy is the pain we feel when we see King Lear not only loose his temper and make a rash judgment, but then become even more incensed when Kent offers him good counsel. Lear had a second chance and he destroyed that also. We agonize as we watch and think, it could have been so very different. Another aspect of this is the heros character. The person who makes the tragic decision cannot be a moral monster. If the hero were utterly evil, we would not feel sympathy with him nor would we agonize over the consequences. They could hardly have been different, and we are satisfied to see him get what is coming. But there is more. What makes a moral decision or action tragic is that the consequences turn out to be so much larger than one might have expected. In the kind of simple moralism that Schopenhauer despised and accused Christians of holding to, there is a rationalistic distribution of poetic justice. But the notion of poetic justice does not fit Shakespeares tragedies. Hamlet, for example, makes a fateful and morally perverse decision to seek the darkest revenge imaginable. He seeks not merely the death of Claudius, but also his eternal damnation. As a result, not only does Hamlet himself die along with his murderous uncle, which might have been a conclusion that we would call poetic justice, but in addition, Hamlets young love, Ophelia, her father Polonius and her brother Laertes also die, as well as Hamlets mother. Two others, Hamlets friends, die also, making the total of eight dead. These people do not all deserve to die by any common measure of justice. Their deaths are not so much caused by their own faults, as by Hamlets. This is an important part of tragedy. The actions of a great man can cause harm that spreads wide. Innocent men and women may suffer for the deeds and decisions of others, especially those in authority. We see, then, another important aspect of tragedy from a Christian perspective. In a tragedy, the calamity with which the play ends far surpasses the level of the heros fault. This means that we cannot simply reduce tragedy to the moral lesson that we reap what we sow. If we sow a peach seed, we may get a peach tree, but we dont expect to return a few days later to find a whole orchard. When the evil consequences of a rash or sinful action seem to vastly outweigh the cause, we face tragedy. This is the reason that the hero of a tragedy is almost always a man in high position. For his faults, even if they are strictly personal and not so great, still may have huge consequences. We can imagine an average man with relatively large faults who would not be a legitimate subject for a tragedy if he simply reaped what he sowed, without bringing trouble on many other people. A leader, however, is in a position to make a mistake that has consequences which are nothing less than awesome. A related consideration is that the consequences are irreversible. In other words, tragedy ends in death. When the problems caused by ones sin and folly can be solved and the situation reversed, it is no longer tragedy. Shakespeares tragedies, therefore, end with the death of the hero and usually not a few others with him. In Othello where the fault is personal and the damage to others is relatively less in comparison with the other great tragedies, five persons die, the hero, his faithful wife, Desdemona, his enemy, Iago, Iagos wife, Emilia, and the bumbling Rodrigo. Five people die because of Othello, because he was foolishly jealous. There is another aspect of tragedy, one which may seem to contradict what we have pointed out so far, but the contradiction is only apparent. There is mystery in tragedy. Moral explanation of a sort is necessary, but it is a fact that things happen in a tragedy that are not explicable. Explanation, in other words, can never be total. If we remind ourselves of Biblical stories, we see this dimension rather clearly. Schopenhauers assertion that Christians are bound by superficial notions of poetic justice is exposed as superficial slander. Think, for example, of the story of Cain and Able. Here is a tragedy. But does Cain suffer for the murder of his younger brother? Yes, but it is slight compared to what we might expect. Moreover, he becomes the first city builder and apparently lives a long prosperous life. Remember the prophecy of Habakkuk? He was deeply troubled by what he saw God doing. It certainly did not fit his or anyone elses sense of poetic justice. He saw that the Babylonians were far worse, morally and religiously than the kingdom of Judah, but he also knew that God was going to use the evil to judge the relatively less evil. It troubled him deeply, wherefore lookest thou upon them that deal treacherously, and holdest thy tongue when the wicked devoureth the man that is more righteous than he? (Hab. 1:13) The Bible is not a book of poetic justice, often things happen that offend our sense of what is fair. We are not given no explanation, but neither are we given the kind of full and satisfying explanation that we might wish. According to the Biblical worldview, we must face the fact that history is shrouded in mysteries that will only find solutions in the final judgment, at the end of time when all things are brought to light. Until then, nothing is so fully explained that it really satisfies our sense of poetic justice. Shakespeare has been influenced by this worldview enough that in his plays, there are reflections of it. Mystery remains and leaves its frustrating mark on all of our explanations. We have both the ethical logic of Christianity, plus the mysterious working of a God whose ways are not our ways. In all of Shakespeares tragedies, providence interferes in wonderful ways to complicate matters, to frustrate the plans of sinful men, and, ultimately, to show us, as Hamlet said, There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will. We can summarize, then, and say that what makes tragedy to be tragedy in Shakespeare is that 1) there is a ethical causality; 2) things could have been different; 3) the hero is a basically decent man; 4) the consequences of the choice overturn the scales of poetic justice; 5) the tragedy is irreversible because it ends in death; 6) there is that which cannot be explained. Tragedy confronts us with the mystery of life and reminds us that God has a plan that transcends our understanding. But the philosopher Karl Jaspers will not be satisfied with this kind of explanation. And that leads to our third question, Must the tragedy be final. May there be hints of a brighter future, or a resolution of some sort at the end of a tragedy? From the Christian perspective the answer to these questions is clear. Tragedy is not final in so far as its consequences are limited to this life. Hints of a brighter future and resolution at the end of a tragedy do not undermine tragedy as tragedy. On the contrary, they should be seen as essential. But again we are confronted with a difference in worldviews and definitions. Jaspers insisted that Christians do not understand tragedy and that to be genuine, the tragedy must be final. In Jaspers words, there is no way out whatsoever. Now, as far as this life is concerned death is irreversible, but for Christians there is another world to come. That is a problem for Jaspers. To him, tragedy is undermined and rendered void by the idea of future world in which the awful consequences of this world can be reversed, a world in which the problems caused by the tragedies of this life may be solved. For Jaspers, Christianity and tragedy are mutually exclusive. But this view is shallow and dogmatic. And that it does not apply to Shakespeare, in spite of Jaspers assertions to the contrary, should be obvious. Think about it. Jaspers and others who deny that Christians can truly understand tragedy know very well that while Christians do not believe that death is a final end, they also believe that death can be eternal. The idea of an everlasting hell means that tragedy may be real beyond our ability to imagine. We need to keep the idea of hell in mind when we see that Shakespeares great tragedies end at least with judgment of evil and even with hope. This is true in each of the four major tragedies. Macbeth is killed and a new king is crowned. King Lear dies but Edgar and Albany live to rebuild the land. Hamlet seeks revenge and dies with the king, his uncle, but Fortinbras, the prince who forsook revenge, inherits the land. Othello commits suicide after murdering his faithful wife, but Cassio did not die which means that Iago does not gain a complete victory. Of course, Iago himself faces the severest earthly judgment. Already it is clear that Jaspers view does not work, for in every case, there is resolution and an element of hope at the end. Furthermore, and even more significant, in none of these examples would the audience assume that the judgment of death was either final or most important. Nor do the characters in the play. For Othello, for example, death is not the end, it is the beginning of an eternity in which, as he says, he will be roasted in sulfur and washed in liquid fire. Hell and only hell is tragedy with no way out. If we take that into account, we may fairly say that it is not the Christian but the modern anti- Christian who denies tragedy because they deny that human action is fraught with the weight of eternal consequences. But we need to add more. From the Christian perspective the life of the world to come does not render life in this world irrelevant or somehow unimportant. After all, the choice for eternal life or death is something that we can only do in this life. And there is also a degree of eternal blessing or curse that is based upon what we have done in this life. Compared to the non- Christian views of men like Jaspers, the Bible treats our life in this world as profoundly significant precisely because the consequences do not end at death, but extend into eternity. Nor do the facts of the future life and the comfort it offers to those who suffer imply that the suffering of this life is somehow less than the real thing. Jesus suffering on the cross is sometimes referred to in this context, but Jesus suffering on the cross is never treated as a light thing or as insignificant simply because he was raised from the dead three days later. On the other hand, Jesus suffering is not a tragedy for Him or from His perspective because it was brought on by His righteousness, not through folly or sin. And he gave Himself willingly. Thus, Jesus told the daughters of Jerusalem to weep for themselves and their children. His death was a tragedy for them, for they killed their own Messiah and lost the promised blessing of the kingdom. It is evident that the sufferings that Christians endure in this life are treated in the Bible as most real and meaningful, because they are part of Gods eternal plan and because they are related to eternity. One of the most tender expressions of this is the Biblical promise in the book of Revelation: They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. (Rev. 7:16-17). If the Bible teaches that God Himself takes our suffering seriously, how can we say that future hope means that in Christianity there can be no true tragedy? So, returning again to Shakespeare, Desdemona, Othellos faithful wife, was murdered and went to heaven, as her servant Emilia said. But does anyone watching the play feel that the fact that she is going to be with Christ somehow makes her death less tragic. She was murdered by a man that she loved and to whom she was perfectly devoted. She died at the hand of her beloved with the word whore ringing in her ears. Is this tragedy? Yes. And the fact that she will shortly be in heaven does not render the tragedy void. Only God can wipe away her tears. This brings us to our fourth question. Why do we enjoy tragedy? Why should anyone enjoy watching a play in which human suffering is acted out right in front of us? What is it that we enjoy about seeing these people suffer exquisite anguish? The Scottish philosopher David Hume offered an interesting answer. To begin with Hume denies that pain and pleasure are true opposites. It is an interesting point. Tickling, for example, is pleasant, but pushed too far, it becomes painful. In the same way, sorrow, in a small enough dose, is actually pleasurable rather than painful. When we view a tragedy, we are not experiencing the suffering of the hero, we are just viewing. The real events are far enough away and they evoke so little pain that our watching a tragedy on stage provokes only slight anguish, just enough to be pleasurable. If we were too close to the events, we could not enjoy them. If we were part of the history in which the tragedy occurred, we would not have enjoyed it while it was happening and we would probably not be able to enjoy seeing it on stage either. It would be too close for comfort. But when we view a play about something that happened a long time ago, far away from us, we can enjoy the slight sorrow it brings. Besides, we know that it is a mere imitation of tragic events and imitation itself has a certain kind of attraction, especially if it is well done. Add to this the fact that the actors make fine speeches that appeal to our aesthetic sense. The beautiful oratory, even of a suffering man, can move us profoundly. Now what Hume has to say is true as far as it goes, but it doesnt go far enough. It doesnt really focus in on tragedy per se. We watch dramatic reenactments of war, we see action movies, suspense thrillers, and so on. Most of us would prefer never to be in the kind of circumstances that these movies depict. War, murder, and extreme suspense are never enjoyable in real life, at least not for most people. Humes principle applies to all of these. But that means that it explains tragedy only in so far as tragedy is just another one of those things that is better seen than suffered. We need to add that not everyone likes tragedy. This is especially clear in our day when people can choose between so many types of plays and movies. People have much more to choose from in the way of entertainment than they did in Shakespeares day. We dont have to watch tragedy and allow ourselves to be confronted with the kinds of deep questions it poses. Other options like thrillers or action moves provide the pleasure of limited tension without being serious and demanding. With modern movies, we dont have to be confronted with lifes painful questions. We are not haunted by the hard reality of irreversible moral choices. Even when it is just on stage or in a movie, tragedy has a depth that is difficult for many to bear. I think that we have to say that many people can enjoy mystery, suspense, or almost any other genre (except possibly horror) more easily than they can tragedy and there are no doubt some people who would avoid tragedy altogether. Humes answer, then, is too general, at best. It seems to apply better to genres other than tragedy. We have to ask, is tragedy really a matter of a little pain bringing pleasure? Does Humes explanation really apply well? We need to consider again, what tragedy is, in particular what Shakespearean tragedy is, in order to understand why we enjoy it. Here our Christian perspective sheds the light we need to see the issue clearly. Shakespeares tragedies are stories of the fall. The first tragedy in the world is the story of the fall of Adam and Eve. Though the Bible tells it succinctly and it might be difficult to turn it directly into a Shakespearean play, the story of Adam and Eve is the paradigmatic tragedy upon which Shakespearean tragedy as a whole is based. The most obvious example of Shakespeare retelling the story of Adam and Eve is, of course, the tragedy of Macbeth. Witches, the instruments of the devil, tempt a husband and wife to sin in order to become king and queen, to become like gods. As we shall see later, Shakespeare quite self-consciously uses details from the Biblical story to make sure that we notice the obvious parallel. This means that tragedy offers us meditation on real life, that it can truly depict a world that has fallen into sin. And this is a world that we know by experience. It is possible, therefore, for us to sympathize. We can identify with the events and characters in Shakespearean tragedy because we, too, know tragedy. Our tragedy is usually on a small scale, but that does not make it less real to us. Even though our tragedies may be small in comparison with Macbeth, the same principles apply. We know people, for example, who have had to confront consequences that seemed to outweigh the fault so far that it was overwhelming. To speak concretely, it is a fault in a man to drive his car beyond the speed limit. And for the most part we can all agree that it should be punished, at least some of the time. But that relatively small fault has often brought about staggering consequences. That a little extra speed going around a corner might bring about the death of a young man seems incongruous, but it is a sort of tragedy that we all know about. In addition to the personal loss of a friend, we feel devastated when we see the lost potential and think about the fact that just a little more care would have saved his life. Things could have been so different. Because tragedy is so real, we can identify with it deeply and sympathize with the characters in the play. But this means that for Christians tragedy is edifying. For many non-Christians edification is the very last word that they would associate with tragedy, but that only illustrates again that ones world view and ones view of tragedy are intertwined. Solomon was not talking of the theater when he wrote, The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. Ecc. 7:4. But the principle applies. The house of mourning is a place where we meditate on life, where we are forced to face the fact that we, too, will die. We ask ourselves hard questions about who we are and why we are living. This is what tragedy does for us and some people, though not all, are wise enough to appreciate the challenge that tragedy presents. It is not, however, a universally appealing genre. Tragedy edifies also by warning us to flee from sin and error and to seek wisdom. All of Shakespeares tragedies, as we have said, result from the folly or sin of the hero. When we see these men fail and consider the horrific consequences of their failure, we are warned to take our sins seriously. We are encouraged to be patient, to be humble. A wise and mature man appreciates a warning. When it comes through a play that is also aesthetically appealing, the warning is even enjoyable. It is edifying in a way similar to a sermon. Tragedy also edifies by reminding us that we are not alone in our suffering. Paul told the Corinthians that the temptations which they face are common to men. A similar point may be made about tragedy. When we see that others suffer, our own sufferings are mitigated. Tragedy reminds us of the human condition, of the fact that Adams fall is repeated again and again in history, of the fact that all men suffer. We are reminded to weep with those who weep. More fundamentally, we are also reminded that God takes our suffering seriously and that we can cast ourselves upon Him, for He cares for us. I trust that you can see that rather than tragedy being a genre that Christians cannot appreciate or understand, tragedy is a genre than Christians should be able to appreciate more than non-Christians. Nothing about tragedy is necessarily contrary to Christian faith. And Shakespearean tragedy in particular should be seen as an expression of Christian faith. For Shakespeares tragedies are stories of the fall of man. They are all based upon the truth that we live in a world of moral causality, a world in which our sins and foolishness have consequences. But this is also a mysterious world, a world that transcends our understanding because it moves according to the plan of God. It is a world in which each one of us has committed sins. We have all been foolish. We have all experienced tragedy of one sort or another. Humes explanation is too shallow, though it is not entirely irrelevant. Where he errs is in seeing it in terms of pleasure and pain, rather than in terms of edification. Schopenauer and Jaspers, too, err in a similar way. Though Schopenauer might see the lesson he draws from tragedy as edification of a certain sort. But despairing of life in this world and concluding that there is nothing here that really means anything is not the edification Shakespeare intended. Christians would not consider Schopenauers message edifying. Jaspers insists that tragedy must be final because in his worldview, life is ultimately absurd. For him, nothing points to that fact more clearly than tragedy -- but only a certain kind of tragedy. In spite of what Jaspers himself thinks, Shakespeares tragedies end in resolution and, thus, offer hope; the tragedies express Shakespeares faith that good triumphs over evil. Now all of this means that Christianity offers what we might call a theology of tragedy. To begin with, the fall of Adam into sin is the first and greatest tragedy of human history. It is the greatest tragedy in the sense that every other tragedy in human history is grounded in Adams sin. Because of his sin, we are all born into the world sinners. Because of his sin, the whole creation, as Paul says in Romans 8:20, has been subjected to vanity. What does that mean? Well, among other things, that so-called natural catastrophes like floods and earthquakes are not really natural. They express the perversion of the created order that resulted from mans rebellion against God. Man-made catastrophes express this even more clearly. The oppressive tyrant in a home or at the head of the kingdom brings suffering to those under his rule. War ravages the earth and all in its way. Revolutions promise freedom, but usually offer more of the same misery. We see men in bondage everywhere. If Adam had not sinned none of this would be. If the suffering and misery of the world were the whole story, we might follow Schopenhauers views. The tragedies of real history would tell us that human life is meaningless and teach us to give up our attachment to this world. But according to the Bible, suffering and misery are not the whole story. There is redemption. From the very beginning when Adam sinned, God gave him the promise of salvation to come when He spoke the curse against the serpent: I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed: he shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel. Note that the seed of the woman who will save the world must also suffer. Though I dont believe that Christs suffering can be called tragedy for the reasons that I specified before, the fact that salvation can only come through suffering is part of the theology of tragedy. In a fallen world, in a world of suffering, there are no simple solutions. The problems of sin cannot be solved by comic means. It takes death to remove death. We conclude our discussion of Christianity and tragedy, then, not merely by denying the assertion that Christianity is incompatible with tragedy, but by affirming that only Christianity offers a worldview in which tragedy makes sense and tragedy as a literary genre is edifying. Only one more point about Shakespeare's tragedies need to be added. That is that they are not merely philosophy or theology acted out in story form. Hegel put it well when he contrasted Shakespeare to the plays of the French and Italians, who imitated the ancient Greeks. The first distinction that strikes us immediately is that between abstract and therefore formal characterizations on the one hand, and individuals who confront us as concrete and living human beings, on the other. Hegel went on to explain that the French and Italians imitated the ancient Greeks and wrote drama that amounted to mere personifications of certain passions for love, honor, fame, domination, tyranny, etc. But Shakespeare, he says, depicts full individuals. And he does it so well that, according to Hegel, he excels all others and is almost beyond reach. Shakespeares characters express themselves in a manner that is individual, real, directly alive, supremely manifold, and yet, when it seems necessary, of such sublimity and striking power of expression, of such fervor and inventiveness in images and metaphors produced on the spur of the moment, of such rhetoric, bred not in schools but by true feeling and the consistency of character . . . that one will not easily find another modern dramatist who could be placed beside him. The point that Hegel makes is important. Shakespeares plays seem to confront us with real people, characters that come across as having real personalities. Think about what this means. If we felt that the characters were unreal or simply the embodiment of some idea, we could not get involved with them or the story. They would come across as mere symbols of something else and the dramatic power of their words would be lost. The genius of Shakespeare is that his plays do communicate ideas and contain symbolism and allusions to other stories, but they also function dramatically at the level of a story with characters so real that we see them and their stories as unique. Let me just suggest that perhaps the full individuality of Shakespeares characters comes from his borrowing so much from the Bible rather than merely imitating the ancient Greeks. That brings us to the topic of our next lecture -- Shakespeare and his use of the Bible -- and to the end of this lecture. Thank you for listening.