Faith: the will to believe in a truth; “the knowledge of the meaning of man’s life”; that he gives to it.

"There arose a contradiction from which there were two ways out: either what I called rational wasn’t as rational as I thought; or what seemed to me irrational wasn’t as irrational as I thought. And I started to test the line of reasoning of my rational knowledge. Testing the line of reasoning of rational knowledge, I found it quite correct. The conclusion that life is nothing was unavoidable, but I saw an error. The error lay in the fact that my thinking didn’t correspond to the question I had asked. The question was this: why do I live, that is, what is real and lasting that will come out of my illusory and impermanent life, what meaning does my finite existence have in this infinite world? And to answer this question I studied life.

The answering of all possible questions about life obviously could not satisfy me because my question, however simple it might appear at the beginning, included a requirement for the explanation of the finite by the infinite and the reverse. I was asking, “What is the meaning of my life outside time, outside cause, outside space?” But I was asking the question, “What is the meaning of my life within time, within cause, and within space?” The result was that after a long labor of thought, I answered, “None.” In my reasoning I constantly equated—I couldn’t do otherwise—finite with finite and infinite with infinite, and so the result I got was what it had to be: a force is a force, a substance is a substance, will is will, infinity is infinity, nothing is nothing, and there could be no further result.

Something like this happens in mathematics when, thinking you are solving an equation, you produce a solution of identity. The line of reasoning is correct but in the result you get the answer a = a or x = x or o = o. The same happened with my reasoning about the question of the meaning of my life. The answers given by the whole of science to the question only produced identities.

And indeed strictly rational science, which begins like Descartes with completely doubting everything, rejects all the knowledge recognized by faith and constructs everything anew on the laws of reason and experience, and cannot give any other answer to the question of life but the very one I received—an indeterminate [not exactly known, established, or defined] answer. It was only at the start that science seemed to me to give a positive answer—the answer of Schopenhauer: life has no meaning; it is evil. But having looked into the matter I understood that the answer isn’t positive, but was just my feeling expressing it as such. A strictly expressed answer, as articulated by the Brahmins and Solomon and Schopenhauer, is only an indeterminate answer or an identity, o = o; life appearing to me as nothing is nothing. So philosophical science denies nothing but only answers that it cannot solve this question, that for it the solution remains indeterminate.

Having answered this, I understood that it was impossible to look for the answer to my question in rational science, and that the answer given by rational science is only an indication that the answer can only be given with the question being put differently, only when there is introduced into the reasoning the question of the relationship of the finite to the infinite. I also understood that however irrational and distorted the answers given by faith, they have the advantage that into every answer they introduce the relationship of the finite to the infinite, without which there cannot be an answer. However I might put the question, “How should I live?” the answer is “By God’s law.” “What that is real will come out of my life?” “Eternal suffering or eternal bliss.” “What meaning of life is there that is not destroyed by death?” “Union with the infinity of God, paradise.”

So apart from rational science, which previously seemed to me the only one, I was inescapably led to recognize that the whole of living mankind has another irrational science—faith, which gives the possibility of living. All the irrationality of faith remained the same for me as before but I couldn’t fail to recognize that it alone gives mankind answers to the questions of life and consequently the possibility of living. Rational science had led me to recognize that life is meaningless; my life stopped and I wanted to destroy myself. Looking around at people, at the whole of mankind, I saw that people do live and affirm that they know the meaning of life. I looked at myself: I did live as long as I knew the meaning of life. Like others I too was given the meaning of life and the possibility of life by faith. Looking further at people from other countries, at my contemporaries, and at those who lived before us, I saw one and the same thing. Where there is life, ever since mankind has existed faith gives the possibility of living, and the main features of faith are everywhere and always one and the same.

Whatever the faith and whatever the answers and to whomever it might give them, every answer from faith gives the finite existence of man a meaning of the infinite—a meaning that is not destroyed by suffering, privations and death. That means in faith alone can one find the meaning and potential of life. And I understood that faith in its most essential meaning is not just “the unveiling of unseen things” and so forth, it isn’t revelation (that is only a description of one of the signs of faith), it’s not just the relationship of man to God (one needs to define faith and then God, but not to define faith through God), it’s not agreement with what one has been told by someone (as faith is most often understood)—faith is the knowledge of the meaning of man’s life, as a result of which man does not destroy himself but lives. Faith is the life force. If a man lives, then he believes in something. If he didn’t believe that one must live for something, then he wouldn’t live. If he doesn’t see and doesn’t understand the illusoriness of the finite, he believes in the finite; if he does understand the illusoriness of the finite, he must believe in the infinite without which one cannot live.

And I remembered the whole course of my mental labors and I was horrified. It was now clear to me that for a man to be able to live he either had not to see the infinite or have an explanation of the meaning of life in which the finite was equated with the infinite. I had such an explanation but I had no need for it while I believed in the finite, and I began to test it by reason. And with the light of reason I found the whole of my previous explanation to dissolve in dust. But there came a time when I stopped believing in the finite. And then I began to construct out of what I knew, on rational foundations, an explanation that would give the meaning of life; but nothing got constructed. Together with mankind’s best minds I came to o = o and was very surprised to get such a solution when nothing else could come of it.

What was I doing when I looked for an answer in the experimental sciences? I wanted to learn why I lived and for that I studied everything outside myself. Clearly I was able to learn a great deal, but nothing of what I needed. What was I doing when I looked for an answer in the philosophical sciences? I studied the thoughts of those people who were in the same position as myself, who had no answer to the question, “Why do I live?” Clearly I could learn nothing other than what I myself knew: that one can know nothing. “What am I?” “Part of the infinite.” Now in those few words lies the whole problem. Can mankind have asked this question of itself only yesterday? And really did no one ask himself this question before me—such a simple question coming to the tip of the tongue of any clever child? This question has been asked ever since man has existed; and ever since man has existed, it has been understood that for the question to be answered it has been just as inadequate to equate finite to finite and infinite to infinite, and ever since man has existed, the relationship of finite to infinite has been looked for and expressed.

All these concepts, in which the finite is equated to the infinite and the result is the meaning of life, concepts of God, freedom, good, we submit to logical analysis. And these concepts do not stand up to the criticism of reason. If it weren’t so terrible, it would be funny to see the pride and complacency with which like children we take to pieces a watch, remove the spring, make a toy of it, and then are surprised that the watch stops working. The solution of the contradiction between finite and infinite is necessary and valuable, providing an answer to the question whereby life is made possible. And this is the only solution, one we find everywhere, always and among all peoples—a solution coming down out of time in which the life of man has been lost to us, a solution so difficult that we could make nothing like it—this solution we carelessly destroy in order to ask again that question inherent in everyone to which there is no answer. The concepts of infinite God, of the divinity of the soul, of the link between the affairs of man and God, the concepts of moral good and evil, are concepts evolved in the distant history of man’s life that is hidden from our eyes, are those concepts without which life and I myself would not be, and rejecting all this labor of all mankind, I want to do everything by myself, alone, anew, and in my own way.

I didn’t think so then, but the germs of those thoughts were already in me. I understood firstly that for all our wisdom my position alongside Schopenhauer and Solomon was a stupid one: we understand that life is evil and still we live. This is clearly stupid because if life is stupid—and I do so love all that is rational—then I should clearly destroy life, and no one would be able to challenge this. Secondly I understood that all our reasoning was going around in a vicious circle, like a wheel that has come off its gear. However much, however well we reason, we cannot give an answer to the question, and it will always be o = o, and so our path is likely to be the wrong one. Thirdly, I began to understand that the answers given to faith enshrine the most profound wisdom of mankind, and that I didn’t have the right to deny them on the grounds of reason, and that, most importantly, these answers do answer the question of life." - Leo Tolstoy, Confession, Chapter Nine