Am 7. November wäre Albert Camus hundert Jahre alt geworden. Der Schriftsteller und Philosoph Albert Camus (1913–1960) starb jedoch früh und tragisch bei einem Autounfall. Sein Werk ist aktueller denn je und liefert Antworten auf die Fragen unserer Zeit.
Der Rheinische Merkur schrieb dazu:
„Camus bleibt präsent: Als der linke Antikommunist, der Parteien verabscheute, als Atheist Gott respektierte und die Würde des Einzelnen über politische Interessen stellte, war das genaue Gegenteil eines Fanatikers. Wissbegierde und Ehrlichkeit, Mut und Konsequenz, die Auflehnung gegen ein sich Abfinden, das alles sind Tugenden, die unsere Zeit mehr als nötig hat“
Was aber kaum jemand weiß und deshalb weniger präsent ist, erzählte vor einigen Jahren Professor John Warwick Montgomery dem Bruder Ron Kusch (theoblog.de):
„Ich lernte vor nicht all zu langer Zeit von einem inzwischen pensionierten Pastor einer Kirche in Paris, dass Albert Camus sich dort im Monat seines tragischen Todes bei einem Autounfall taufen lassen wollte. Camus hatte den Bankrott der humanistischen Existenzphilosophie miterlebt und, wie viele andere intelligente Seelen über die Jahrhunderte hinweg, kein Problem damit, den Evangeliums-Narrativen zu vertrauen.“
„Die Quellen gehen wohl zurück auf einen gewissen Howard Mumma, der nach dem Krieg Pastor eine amerikanischen Kirche in Paris war und sich mit Camus anfreundete. Mumma selbst hat Camus’ Wunsch nach einer privaten Taufe abgelehnt.
Ich zitiere hier Fragmente seiner Erinnerungen (in denen er meist Camus zitiert, aus: Albert Camus and the Minister, published by Paraclete Press, 2000):
„After all, one of the basic teachings that I learned from Sartre is that man is alone. We are solitary centers of the universe. Perhaps we ourselves are the only ones who have ever asked the great questions of life. Perhaps, since Nazism, we are also the ones who have loved and lost and who are, therefore, fearful of life. That is what led us to sense that there is something–I don’t know if it is personal or if it is a great idea or powerful influence–but there is something that can bring meaning to my life. I certainly don’t have it, but it is there. On Sunday mornings, I hear that the answer is God.
“You have made it very clear to me, Howard, that we are not the only ones in this world. There is something that is invisible. We may not hear the voice, but there is some way in which we can become aware that we are not the only ones in the world and that there is help for all of us.”…
“And I don’t understand it to this day–this man Nicodemus!” I was very pleased when he brought up Nicodemus. I got out the Bible and turned to the third chapter of the Gospel of John and we reread it. We discussed it. He said to me, “Now here is a wise man of Israel! He is seeking something that he does not have. I feel right at home with Nicodemus, because I too am uncertain about this whole matter of Christianity. I don’t understand what Jesus said to Nicodemus, `You must be born again.’”
I said, “Albert, let’s think about this expression `to be born again,’ because we are moving back to the significance of baptism. What was Jesus’ reply?”
Immediately Camus said, “Well, you know what it was! He simply said that you must be born again! I know the exact words: `except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God,’ whatever that is. And he said, `That which is born of the flesh is flesh and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.’… I simply marvel at it–that you must be born again.”
…
I noticed Camus cringing again. He must have seen the questioning look on my face because he explained: “For me, baptism and confirmation would be a more personal thing, something between me and God.”
“But baptism and confirmation are both a private and a public commitment to a life with Christ. They are a welcoming into the family of God, which is the church here on earth, both visible and invisible. At the end of the baptism, the minister confirms you as a full and responsible member not only of the family of God, which is personal, but also of the church, which is a community.”
Camus shook his head, leaning back in his chair, obviously disappointed. “I cannot belong to any church,” he said. “Is this not something that you could do? Something just between us?”
Weiterer Link: www.theoblog.de/das-argernis-des-kreuzes/7304/