Christ and the Absurd

Jude Ruetschle

BIO: My formative years were spent in Manila before I moved to the US in 2018. I now live in Portland, Oregon with my family and our (absurdly cute) doggo Suki. While at Whitworth, I’ve spent most of my time with campus ministry—cultivating spaces for prayer, lament, and a touch of heresy through my positions as Campus Ministry Coordinator and Spiritual Life Coordinator, and playing acoustic guitar for Chapel and Hosanna. One of my favorite experiences from these last four years was studying abroad in Oxford, after which I puttered about a monastery in France and cultivated my love for silence and contemplative prayer. Im also a published poet and writer, and won the Great Lakes Theology Conference prize for my essay on Kierkegaard and environmentalism. My sweetest memories at Whitworth have been long tea ceremonies with friends, rambling barefoot through the Back 40, and watching squirrels bounce their way across campus. As my time at Whitworth concludes, I’m eagerly anticipating my enrollment at Duke University where I will be pursuing a Master’s in Divinity. 

MAJOR: Theology

Minor: Psychology

Broadly speaking, our world tends to see religion as a sort of ‘meaning-making’ device. In faith, one is able to carve divine order into the chaos and fragmentation of the human experience. This makes faith a vehicle for hope—for settling the existential realization that nothing in our lives makes sense. The premise of this project, however, challenges that assumption: What if grasping after order and unity is not a source, but an obstruction to our ability to embrace life? What would change if we came to see faith not as a tool for imposing order, but as a means of embracing the disorder—the absurdity—of our existence? Enter: Absurdism. In this project, I engaged with philosophy of the absurd through the works of Albert Camus, Franz Kafka, Samuel Beckett, and David Lynch—interrogating their writing for compatibility with the Christian tradition. The connections were abundant. Biblical figures such as Job see God firstly through an obscurity or (borrowing the words of Thomas Merton) a confession of ignorance. This suggests that somehow, acknowledging absurdity is the beginning of encounter. Perhaps to live by faith is not to impose our machinations on the world, but to choose what is offered to us wholeheartedly. If—as the absurdist concludes—nothing is granted, we expose ourselves to the beauty and abundance of life. We suffer and we rejoice wholeheartedly. We become present. The goal of both the Christian and the Absurdist traditions is therefore to grow conscious. As Camus asserts: ‘Crushing truths perish from being acknowledged.’ Life is best lived where we face the absurd and we call it our own.