We’ve all heard that now famous line from Nietzsche:
God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.
Less known are the lines that follow:
How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us?
I’ve always been fond of Nietzsche’s work, even through it’s pessimism, nihilism and atheism. He was a man who desperately searched for truth, and that I will always respect. “God is dead” is a phrase that has become all too true in our modern times, in many of the ways Nietzsche prophesied. Today we’ll take a closer look at what this actually means, with a specific focus on religion and religious institutions.
I must begin with an admission: I haven’t met too many true-blooded atheists in my life. Sure, I’ve met some, but that number pales in comparison to those who believe in something. I enjoy having those existential conversations that are as tantalizing as they are useless, and most of my information comes from such conversations. By far the most common answer I get to the “God question” is something amorphous, vague and blob-like. It’s more of a feeling than an admission of belief. Most people are open to the idea that there is a higher power out there, but are reluctant to define it by any standards. There’s nothing wrong with this openness to interpretation - it’s in fact one of the pillars of spiritual sobriety - but it opens the door to the possibility of a host of issues.
I know you’ve heard it before. That wishy, washy, God-is-the-universe, New Age mantra. It’s practically become its own cult, complete with rituals (raves, ecstatic dances, “meditation” groups, yoga classes, etc.). It’s hard to describe exactly what it is, but that’s the whole point. I imagine a sweaty dude at a rave, tripping on shrooms shouting “God is love, man” while smoking a joint and looking for a half-naked woman in his vicinity to spend the night with. Truth is, in my younger years I would have been on board with that whole vibe. Now, however, I think this is exact thing that Nietzsche saw coming - the death of God.
Before the modern age, when God was solidified in societal consciousness as a great bearded man in the sky (or something of that ilk), there was a certain type of oder that came with it. Granted, the amount of negatives from that outlook probably outweighed the positives (i.e. witch hunts), but there’s something to be said about the hierarchical spiritual structure that dominated Western Civilization for the better part of two thousand years. At least in theory, things were a lot clearer - morality, good and evil, the making of the “good life” in the eyes of God. Many of its fruits - chivalry, nobility, chastity - were some of the greatest ideals humanity has ever tried to achieve. No matter what denomination or faith, God inspired awe (and some healthy fear) that at least set some sort of bar. With the modern age came modern science, and slowly this megalithic deity started to fade away - year by year, decade by decade. That peculiar human tendency to seek did not dwindle, however, so we started looking anywhere and everywhere to find this dying God. In many ways, we are still looking.
The problem I have with our modern, wildly-subjective conceptions of God is that when tested, poked and prodded, the house of cards falls too easily. When morality is subjective, anything goes. The way we define relationships, rituals, right and wrong - all the things that were once dictated by God - become meaningless. For one man, something could be considered heinous, for another it could be considered “not too bad,” and for yet another it could be considered a triumph. What I have found in my own life to be true is that with subjective morality, someone always loses. I don’t yet have the words to elaborate on what that means, but I know it to be true.
With the death of God came the death of religion. There is no better example than the Catholic Church. With roots extending back to the beginning, to the time of Christ, the Catholic Church was once the beacon of piety and religiosity. Then came the money. Then came the wars. Then came the murders and power struggles. Then came the raping of little boys. It was the latter that cut my intellectual and spiritual ties with what was once my spiritual home. “It’s human flaw that’s really the culprit” was was the defense I so often heard. Something that sick, that twisted, that demonic - no, that’s not just human flaw. There’s something terribly wrong with the whole damn thing, and you won’t convince me otherwise.
I can’t speak for other religions other than the small amounts of evidence I see. Everywhere I turn, most people would be considered secular - whether they be Jews, Muslins, Christians, whatever. Some still practice their traditions and rituals for what seems to me to be appeasement - for family, for history, for fear of letting go. In reality, though, most of us are swept up by the modern promises of independence, wealth and safety, without ever really thinking too hard about the matter. Our phones have become our places of worship, our intercessors and our God. It makes all the sense in the world why for the last few decade especially, New Age practices (combined with Eastern spirituality) have been the easiest cop out.
I find it funny how convenient the psuedo-application of these practices are for our Western culture. Go to a yoga class, buy some crystals, do psychedelics, find God in the body of a stranger at a house music festival. Maybe meditate in the woods, wear a white sash and tell everyone how spiritual you are. “The message is in the medicine, man”. To me, this is what Nietzsche meant. We resigned ourselves to “magic,” co-opted some of the most beautiful spiritual systems on the planet (Buddhism, Taoism, etc.) and gave ourselves gold stars in the process. In reality, we’re all looking for that thing - God - something personal yet infinite while full of complete love. We’re looking for something to take care of us, to make sense of this reality, to hold all of our suffering. Yet we can’t look to the pews anymore because our collective trauma from religion is now at its critical point. So we try to find our way on our own, make it up as we go and replace God with whatever pleasures strike our fancy at any given moment. I’ve tried that time and time again, and it’s never been enough. I think that many of you understand this more than I may even realize.
The thing about religion - the thing about God - is that there was always a heavy recognition of suffering. A respect for it, an admission of it, a desire for something greater than ourselves to take it away from us. The truth spiritual path is one of suffering, as that reflects reality. Changing who we are, growing out of our mortal coil, was never supposed to be fun. That’s where Jesus come in. This man, who by all accounts most certainly walked this earth, went through suffering that is quite frankly unimaginable. The fact that he died for us, to save us from our sins? I don’t think I know what that means yet, but it just feels noble as fuck (lol). Over the course of many centuries, Christianity was violently institutionalized and turned into something I don’t even think Jesus would have approved of. God may be dead, but maybe that leaves space for something new, different. Maybe Christ himself has the answers on what that could look like.
I realize that many people reading this are a part of religious institutions of varying faiths. I commend you and respect you and in many ways want what you have. This message may not necessarily be for you (though you know I always appreciate the support). This is for those of us who are caught in that in-between place, that gray area of wanting more while having no idea where to turn. This is for those of us who desire a relationship with a dead God, who yet seek to revive Him. This is for those of us who are turned off by the condescending, “holier-than-thou” attitude we’ve received from our religious brothers and sisters. This is for those of us who are sick and tired of the empty promises of modernity, pleasure and materialism.
I realize there is a rather glaring element of hypocrisy in what I just wrote. As I stated earlier, as a sober man I believe that religious and spiritual tolerance are foundational beliefs. “God as you understand Him” is the standard. I’ve spent an entire segment ranting about the woes of spiritual subjectivism, yet it is one of my personal creeds. How does that make any sense? That’s the paradox, that’s what I’m trying to find out. Is there a middle ground? Is there a path that allows for God as I understand Him while still offering those objective virtues and values that I so long for? Come to think of it, I think there might be, and I think I know exactly where to look.
Join me tomorrow as I explore one of the most beautiful spiritual systems ever created.
EDIT: I forgot to add a prayer. Let’s do the “Jesus Prayer”:
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
Amen.