story, not of the wandering Jews, but of Job; the story of how apparently senseless suffering is invested with meaning. Recalling Arendt’s depiction of the post-war condition, to grasp this second sense of redemption we should focus on her invocations of and “chaos” “insanity.” Subsequent attempts to understand totalitarianism in general, and the Holocaust in particular, suggested that these phenomena confounded human beings’ senses of the possible, of the imaginable. We see this in the frequent descriptions of the Holocaust as “unthinkable,” and descriptions that places those all-too-human “unspeakable,” “unimaginable,” “ineffable,” events beyond the realm of human experience—in the realm of evil that all “radical” “breaks standards we know.” Similar language has been used to describe the events of September 11, 2001 and other horrors. These descriptions always carry a sense of despair, even desperation; for, it is said, we humans are meaning-making creatures. The apparent meaningless of our world is frequently agonizing. From ancient religious myths to contemporary political ideologies (quasi-religious myths in secular garb), we put great effort into working the matter of our lives into meaningful stories that give us our senses of place in the world. This is why Arendt, for instance, expressed concern in the 1950s for the liberation of a of laborers” that no longer know of “society “does those other higher and more meaningful activities for the sake of which this freedom would deserve to be won.” Senseless suffering is especially painful. This is why, in the face of God’s tests, Job is at first ready to curse his life: the day perish wherein I was born, and the night “Let it was said, There is a man child conceived. Let that day be darkness.” It is also one way in which of reading Christ’s lament, hast thou forsaken me?” And, finally, it may also be why so “Why many initial reactions to the attacks of September 11, 2001 were of could this “shock—how happen?” Why Why now? Such desires for meaning fuel this second sense of Why? “us?”
story, not of the wandering Jews, but of Job; the story of how apparently senseless suffering is invested with meaning. Recalling Arendt’s depiction of the post-war condition, to grasp this second sense of redemption we should focus on her invocations of “chaos” and “insanity.” Subsequent attempts to understand totalitarianism in general, and the Holocaust in particular, suggested that these phenomena confounded human beings’ senses of the possible, of the imaginable. We see this in the frequent descriptions of the Holocaust as “unthinkable,” “unspeakable,” “unimaginable,” and “ineffable,” descriptions that places those all-too-human events beyond the realm of human experience—in the realm of “radical” evil that “breaks all standards we know.” Similar language has been used to describe the events of September 11, 2001 and other horrors. These descriptions always carry a sense of despair, even desperation; for, it is said, we humans are meaning-making creatures. The apparent meaningless of our world is frequently agonizing. From ancient religious myths to contemporary political ideologies (quasi-religious myths in secular garb), we put great effort into working the matter of our lives into meaningful stories that give us our senses of place in the world. This is why Arendt, for instance, expressed concern in the 1950s for the liberation of a “society of laborers” that “does no longer know of those other higher and more meaningful activities for the sake of which this freedom would deserve to be won.” Senseless suffering is especially painful. This is why, in the face of God’s tests, Job is at first ready to curse his life: “Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night in which it was said, There is a man child conceived. Let that day be darkness.” It is also one way of reading Christ’s lament, “Why hast thou forsaken me?” And, finally, it may also be why so many initial reactions to the attacks of September 11, 2001 were of “shock—how could this happen?” Why “us?” Why now? Why? Such desires for meaning fuel this second sense of