Life is All There Is
Claim your inner Falstaff
Armanda Veve
The Falstaffian God:
Embracing Life’s Richness
Imagining God with help from Shakespeare's Falstaff
Falstaff, the roguish, witty, and life-loving character from Shakespeare's plays (see below), is often remembered for his immense zest for life. Harold Bloom, a leading Shakespeare scholar of our time, says: "He is Life itself."
His disdain for abstract ideals like "honor" and his deep love for the pleasures of the world—food, drink, and good company—make him a figure of unreserved joy and vitality, even as he is also cowardly and deceptive. He is, like most of us, messy...and likeable.
If we allow these joy and vitality of Falstaff to shape our imagining of Whitehead’s God, often described as the Eros of the universe, we arrive at a vision of a deity who is not only a creator but a lover of life in all its fullness. And those of us with overly rule-based and authoritarian understandings of God, tempted to view God as a cosmic moralist, can benefit from this Falstaffian vision.
Whitehead’s God is traditionally understood as a force that lures all beings toward richer experiences. This Eros of the universe is not a distant, indifferent creator but an active participant in the unfolding drama of existence. When we infuse this idea with Falstaff’s exuberance, we imagine a God who relishes the beauty and diversity of creation, who delights in the joys of life, and who encourages all beings to do the same. This Falstaffian God seeks richness of experience not only for every sentient creature but for Godself as well, constantly inviting us to embrace the pleasures and adventures of existence.
In this view, God’s primary concern is not with rigid moral codes or abstract principles but with the lived realities of joy, love, and community. Just as Falstaff is impatient with the idea of honor, the Falstaffian God is less interested in moral perfection and more focused on the richness that comes from the messy, unpredictable, and often joyous experiences of life. This God sees imperfections not as flaws to be judged but as essential parts of the human experience that contribute to the overall richness of life.
The Falstaffian God embodies a divine zest for life, a passion for novelty, surprise, and delight. This deity is not content with stasis or sameness but actively seeks out and creates new opportunities for joy and connection. In every moment of laughter, every act of creativity, and every expression of love, the Falstaffian God is present, inviting us to savor the richness of life.
This reimagining of Whitehead’s God challenges traditional notions of the divine, offering a more inclusive and life-affirming vision. It calls us to embrace life with the same zest and passion that defines Falstaff, to seek out joy in the everyday, and to find the divine not in distant abstractions but in the tangible, joyous experiences that make life worth living. The Falstaffian God, much like Falstaff himself, reminds us that life is to be lived, not merely endured, and that in embracing the fullness of our experiences, we come closer to the divine.
Indeed, this way of envisioning God can give us new eyes for love, a characteristic often regarded by process-oriented theologians as the most important aspect of the divine. In Process and Reality, Whitehead describes love as “a little oblivious as to morals” and grounded in the here and now, with no thought of tomorrow. Quite Falstaffian in its way. With help from Falstaff, we can be more mindful that love is not so much a devotion to abstractions or even a call to duty, but rather a deep love of life itself, in all its momentary harmonies and intensities—its fleeting yet profound "occasions of experience."
Here's the point. We love others when we embrace them in their fullness, accepting their imperfections and celebrating their unique presence in our lives. Love, in this Falstaffian sense, is not about rigid adherence to moral standards but about recognizing and delighting in the richness of each moment shared with others. It is about the joy of connection, the warmth of community, and the beauty of life's fleeting, vibrant experiences.
Turn, then, toward the everyday. The Falstaffian God reminds us that love is found in the laughter shared over a meal, in the spontaneous acts of kindness, and in the deep connections that arise from being fully present with one another. This God encourages us to savor these moments, to find the divine not in distant ideals but in the tangible, joyous realities of life. It seems to me that, by embracing this vision, we come closer to understanding love as a celebration of life in all its fullness, a love that enriches both the lover and the beloved, drawing us into a deeper communion with the divine and with each other.
- Jay McDaniel
Three Plays
Falstaff appears in the following plays by Shakespeare:
- "Henry IV, Part 1" - This is where Falstaff is introduced as a companion to Prince Hal (the future King Henry V).
- "Henry IV, Part 2" - Falstaff's story continues, exploring his relationship with Prince Hal and his eventual rejection by the newly crowned King Henry V.
- "The Merry Wives of Windsor" - In this play, Falstaff is the main character and is involved in a comedic plot where he tries to woo two married women to gain access to their husbands' wealth, only to be outwitted by the women.
He is Life Itself
“Shakespeare will not allow Falstaff to die upon stage. We see and hear the deaths of Hamlet, Cleopatra, Antony, Othello, and Lear. Iago is led away to die silently under torture. Macbeth dies offstage but he goes down fighting. Falstaff dies singing the Twenty-third Psalm, smiling upon his fingertips, playing with flowers, and crying aloud to God three or four times. That sounds more like pain than prayer. We do not want Sir John Falstaff to die. And of course he does not. He is life itself.” (Harold Bloom, Falstaff: Give Me Life.)
Life is All There Is
Falstaff is ancient energy thumping at volume through a temporary poundage of flesh. He is part pagan — the Lord of Misrule...and as such his time is short.
We meet him first in “Henry IV, Part 1,” already old, lusting at life, drinking pal of the young Prince Hal, who is calculatedly slumming it in London’s East End, like any rich kid running away from the family firm.
His Falstaffery is made out of language: “If sack and sugar be a fault, God help the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know is damned: If to be fat be to be hated, then … banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.”
Hal the pedant prince is always informing his audiences, real and imagined. Falstaff’s outrageously embodied language reminds us that life is all there is.
- Review of Harold Bloom's Give Me Life, by Jeanette Winterson, April 21, 2017, in NY Times
We meet him first in “Henry IV, Part 1,” already old, lusting at life, drinking pal of the young Prince Hal, who is calculatedly slumming it in London’s East End, like any rich kid running away from the family firm.
His Falstaffery is made out of language: “If sack and sugar be a fault, God help the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know is damned: If to be fat be to be hated, then … banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.”
Hal the pedant prince is always informing his audiences, real and imagined. Falstaff’s outrageously embodied language reminds us that life is all there is.
- Review of Harold Bloom's Give Me Life, by Jeanette Winterson, April 21, 2017, in NY Times