It is now a truism that humanity is thrown into the world, abandoned to the meaningless flux of life that ends in death, but this was common coinage even before Heidegger. Shakespeare for instance crafted great-souled men of passion who faced reality without excuses or illusions and knew the meaning of genuine self-sacrifice. For these tragic heroes there was no hope or possibility of reward after death. Life was instead to be experienced in all its bliss and terribleness without seeking shelter from the terror of existence. This radical celebration of life in all its totality—full of agony, suffering and pain—was infinitely worth more than a safe life which would inevitalby lead to a drab and mediocre existence. In other words, with no otherworldly meaning outside our lives, a certain kind of life still had its own reward; unlike the disillusioned and self-pity personalities of romanticism that sought to flee the present by yearning for a prestine golden past or a hopeful future. However, this escape from the present was nothing new. Humanity has always tried to find saftey beyond the tempest of ordinary existence by seeking comfort in the faith of immortality and a benevolent father above. But what proto-philosophers like Shakespeare valued were passionate people who cared more for honour, justice and truth than what common people would think. It is no wonder that the heroes of his tragedies were never understood by others. They were simply incomparable to the other characters in the play. But unlike religious martyrs who also gamble with their lives by standing out against the fray, Shakespeare—like Nietzsche after him—completely requidiated the after world. Perhaps this doesn’t bode well with a theology of hope, but it would be ill-advised to think eternity is a cut-and-dry solution. At the very least we must acknowledge Christians hold a profound diffidence and modesty regarding the otherworldly, even if hopeful.