Faith, Freedom & The Language Of God: Marilynne Robinson & Jon Fosse On Religion, Literature & Humanism
Introduction
AMERICAN novelist and essayist Marilynne Robinson and Norwegian Nobel laureate Jon Fosse recently sat down with writer and literary critic Merve Emre for an extended conversation exploring faith, theology, literature, language and the place of religion in modern society.
Held ahead of Robinson’s Fosse Lecture in Norway, the discussion examined how both writers understand God, how their religious convictions shape their literary works, and whether contemporary humanism has unnecessarily detached itself from its religious foundations.
The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Faith, Literature & Reading the Bible
Merve Emre:
I received no religious education, so I was interested to learn, Marilynne, that you were teaching a class on reading the Bible. What do you want to impart to your students through your readings of the Old and New Testament?
Marilynne Robinson:
There are many people who feel that they did not receive any religious education, so I try to give them basic terms and concepts simply so they can have an approach.
The first subject I introduce is creation itself. I draw from passages in Proverbs describing the spirit present with God at creation, the concluding chapters of Job where God asks, “Where were you?”, and the Psalms celebrating creation.
I believe one of Christianity’s greatest losses has been its celebratory tradition. Too often it is portrayed primarily as punitive, when in fact the beauty and wonder of existence lie at its heart. Literature consistently reflects this celebration of being, yet many people have never been given the language to recognise or express it.
Another issue concerns biblical translation. Many widely used English translations portray God as vindictive or monstrous. For example, the word commonly rendered as “vengeance” is, in my view, poorly translated. The Latin Vulgate uses the idea of vindication rather than revenge—restoring justice by recognising innocence as well as guilt.
Such translation choices have profoundly shaped public perceptions of God. They also allow political figures to invoke questionable interpretations of scripture as moral justification. I believe many people have become alienated from religion because problematic translations have gradually become accepted as authoritative.
The Image of a Loving or Vengeful God
Emre:
Is it simply a matter of translation that the image of a vengeful God became so deeply rooted in American culture?
Robinson:
The New Testament certainly contains frightening imagery, including the Apocalypse. But most of the suffering humanity experiences comes from our own actions rather than divine intervention.
Human beings violate the commandment against killing every day. We constantly create suffering for one another.
The greatest commandment in both the Old and New Testaments is to love God. Yet through carelessness and inherited tradition, we often construct an image of God that is difficult to love. Before any other commandment is broken, that misunderstanding itself becomes a profound theological problem.
As a teacher, I strive to remain objective, but I also believe certain long-standing misconceptions deserve thoughtful correction.
Negative Theology & the Mystery of God
Emre:
Jon, was the distinction between a loving God and a vengeful God important during your religious upbringing in Norway?
Jon Fosse:
The Old Testament certainly contains accounts of divine judgment, while the New Testament repeatedly affirms something much simpler: that God is love.
Beyond that, I believe very little can be confidently said about God.
European theological tradition contains what is known as apophatic, or negative, theology. It teaches that God ultimately lies beyond human concepts, language, time and space. Human language is simply too limited to define Him adequately.
That is essentially my own position.
When I say I believe in God, I am not referring to an intellectual theory. I mean that there is a truth experienced as a living presence—a way of encountering life and art that goes beyond concepts.
Ironically, I sometimes think the strongest believers are the agnostics because they openly acknowledge that they do not know what God is. That humility is, to me, a deeply honest form of faith.
Robinson:
Yet our understanding of God is also shaped by the traditions of language surrounding Him.
Believing in God means trusting in His goodness and in the goodness of creation itself. Difficult images—such as God being jealous or vengeful—can obstruct that deeper understanding of divine benevolence.
Fosse:
For me, there remains a profound distinction between the Creator and creation.
Creation reflects God, but it is not God Himself.
Historically, that has always marked one of the central differences between positive and negative theology.
The Accessibility of God
Emre:
Marilynne, what do you mean when you describe God as approachable?
Robinson:
It means being able to live peacefully with one’s deepest intuition of God.
Religion & Humanism
Emre:
You have both argued that genuine humanism is rooted in religious belief. Since the Enlightenment, many versions of humanism have attempted to separate themselves from religion. Why do you think reconnecting them matters?
Robinson:
The attempt to construct a purely secular humanism is relatively recent in history.
Classical humanism emerged directly from religious traditions. Renaissance thinkers such as Pico della Mirandola and Dante were profoundly religious humanists.
Modern culture often treats atheism, agnosticism or nihilism as inevitable successors to religious civilisation. I believe that narrative ignores the historical reality that human dignity and moral imagination have long developed within deeply religious frameworks.
Meister Eckhart, Quakerism & Silence
Fosse:
One thinker who has profoundly shaped my understanding of faith is Meister Eckhart.
His writings eventually influenced my decision to become Catholic, though they also resonated with another important tradition in my life: Norwegian Quakerism.
The Quakers emphasise what they call the “inner light.” They believe that one comes closest to God by listening in silence.
Their meetings consist largely of quiet reflection. If someone believes they have something beneficial to contribute, they speak. Otherwise, they remain silent.
I have attended Quaker meetings, though I have always felt uneasy with organisations generally. In that sense I remain something of an anarchist, despite also being Catholic.
Paradoxically, I believe Catholicism and Quakerism meet at precisely the same point—the mystery of faith.
Catholicism expresses it through centuries of liturgy and tradition, while Quakerism strips almost everything away until only silence and the inner light remain.
Norwegian Quakerism & Catholic Community
Emre:
What is the history of Quakerism in Norway?
Fosse:
The movement arrived from England.
My grandfather belonged to one of the small Quaker communities in southwestern Norway.
It has always remained a very small religious community, which eventually became one of the reasons I found Catholicism attractive.
The Catholic Church in Norway is diverse and international, strengthened by immigrants from countries such as Poland and the Philippines.
It possesses a long historical tradition reaching back, symbolically at least, to Saint Peter.
Every religious community lives through shared stories. Whether one calls them history or myth, they become part of a community’s identity once one joins it.
Shared Spiritual Ground Across Christian Traditions
Emre:
Marilynne, how does Jon’s description of Quakerism’s inner light resonate with your own religious tradition?
Robinson:
It immediately reminds me of Jonathan Edwards, whose essay A Divine and Supernatural Light describes light as an expression of something infinitely greater that human beings are called to recognise.
I come from the Congregationalist tradition, which is itself very close to Quakerism.
Interestingly, I also write reflections on biblical readings for L’Osservatore Romano, the Vatican newspaper.
I write exactly as I would for my own Protestant congregation, and those reflections have been warmly received.
To me, that demonstrates something deeply encouraging—that beneath theological differences, Christians often share remarkably similar convictions about the most essential truths of faith.
