The Analects, China's foundational text, opens with:
"The Master said: To study and timely practice—is this not joy? Friends arriving from afar—is this not harmony? To remain unresentful when unrecognized—is this not nobility?"
The Bible, the West's cornerstone, begins:
"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and void, darkness over the deep. God’s spirit hovered on the waters. God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light."
This contrast encapsulates the schism between Chinese and Western thought. Confucius’ “The Master said” roots itself in the here and now, prioritizing human responsibility within the Heaven-Earth-Humanity triad. For Chinese philosophy, existence begins with bearing the burden (承担) of this cosmic framework—no divine origin or abstract premise precedes it. Science, religion, and art all derive from this lived commitment. The Chinese "human" is not a premise but the ultimate precondition; even the term "premise" depends on human existence.
Western thought, epitomized by Plato’s allegory of the cave, demands escape from darkness into the "light of reason"—later deified as God or replaced by science. Yet this framework reduces humans to slaves of external forces (reason, divinity, or empiricism), evading direct responsibility for existence. Tragic heroism in Greek thought or Christian salvation still frames dignity as a hypothetical to be granted, not an inherent truth. As the text scathingly critiques: "Only slaves crave liberation; you are already free—why beg for freedom?"
The essence of Confucianism is bearing the cosmic burden: "Humans are the heart of Heaven and Earth; Heaven and Earth are the human vessel." This ethos rejects Platonic or theological crutches, as illustrated in the defiant poem "Six States Song":
"Enter the mortal realm, startle Heaven and Earth!
Spread wings like the roc, wield thunder and wind.
Eternal sin? Never repent!
Shake celestial robes, stand atop clouds,
Swirl the Milky Way, bend the sun’s path—
Bear the turbid cosmos, breathe its chaos,
Toss wine and sing: all ages share this cup!"
Here, reason and God are human constructs; ultimate agency lies in the haoran zhi qi (浩然之气, vast vital force) that fills the cosmos. Without this heroic ethos, one cannot grasp Confucianism or the Analects.
While exceptions exist in Western thought (e.g., Marx’s materialist vigor or Heidegger’s existential depth), most Westernizers—obsessed with self-abasement and cultural betrayal—understand neither East nor West. To them, the text retorts in Guo Degang’s spirit: "Drop dead!"