“God is Dead”: a celebration or a lament?
My conception and use of the word “religion” transcends the familiar confines of monotheistic and polytheistic religions, extending to entities replete with an insufferably artificial aura of self-righteousness: monarchs, politicians, supreme leaders, and any figure — or idea — who implicitly or explicitly proclaims themselves a “savior.” It is the mindless rules and rulers.
“Imagination abandoned by reason produces impossible monsters; united with her, she is the mother of the arts and source of their wonders”. -Francisco Goya
“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?” These words, famously uttered by Nietzsche, profoundly lament the dire and ominous reality of his time — a reality that extends into our own. The 1800s witnessed a society ardently adopting a new way of thinking: society’s adoption of Enlightenment thought and liberation from the traditions and outdated shackles of religiosity that had led to intellectual and moral stagnation.
The rise of the Enlightenment was not merely an ascent or an intellectual exercise; it was a sweeping transformation, the very quintessential fiber of Western society taking a radical shift. It permeated the souls and hearts of many, advocating rationality, science, and individualism over dogma, faith, and collectivism. The appreciation of an unrestrained and undefined sense of beauty was also hailed supreme in the Enlightenment era. Art, universities, and sciences became the emblems of enlightened nations. Where once God, Church, and priests flourished, now stood proud humans, challenging what was not only false but unjust. Art no longer had to adhere to a particular religious or political narrative; universities encouraged philosophical inquiries independent of mystical and superstitious dogmas; most importantly, the individual is encouraged to be free and adopt any mode of living or thinking, so long harm is not a corollary. We as a collective joined arm in arm to affirm the notion that power is often misplaced, titles are vacuous, and superstition is dangerous. We celebrated the individual and their beauty, in all its varied forms. Awe and inspiration were not exclusive to religion, as the wonders of the world are countless, and beauty takes infinite forms.
Somewhere in the universe :)
The movement saw, with piercing and audacious accuracy, the superfluousness and utter imbecility in the “isms” people adopted. Such vociferous opinions found the hearts of the brave and articulate who took it upon themselves to propagate the fight for freedom. As a natural consequence, authority, at last, seemed to be in check. Thomas Hobbes’s social contract theory was not the first to introduce the commonsensical agreement between the populace and its rulers: serve us well and we keep you; otherwise, we let you go. Enlightenment can be rather straightforward and simple. Moreover, power by birthright became, naturally, the target of relentless scrutiny by the enlightened, who were no longer dictated by arbitrary rules through superstition, but celebrated the formidable prowess of rationality and art. Landlords, kings, and traditions were under the magnifying and relentless eyes of the rationalists, who sought to dismantle any form of authority that could not withstand the test of reason.
a consequence of the French Revolution-Louis XVI’s head…
The proud and self-proclaimed “Antichrist”, Nietzsche single-handedly challenged Western religious, political, and social foundations with the ferocious force of language. Nietzsche, a staunch atheist, was not necessarily enthralled by his proclamation that we killed God — despite his fondness for Enlightenment and staunch atheism. Instead, he recognized the profound and unsettling implications of this “decision” to kill that which sustained us for millennia. The death of God signified, and undoubtedly facilitated, the collapse of the metaphysical and moral order that had underpinned Western civilization for centuries. What had once provided answers to the most taxing and existential questions — where we came from, why we are here, why we senselessly suffer, or in short, what the meaning of all this randomness— was now gone. There is a reason why pondering the origin of time, or the infinitesimally fine-tuned nature of existence, brings about profound existential pain — or beauty. In short, we simply know next to nothing. In the grand scheme of things, we are naked and alone and terrified on a random speck, perpetually running from one danger to another in darkness, loneliness, pain, confusion, and ultimately the unalterable and arguably most self-suppressed truth of all — death.
It is a universal truth that you, the reader, I, the writer, and everyone who has lived or will live, ultimately fear this existential void. This fear is deeply rooted in our physiological and psychological makeup, a product of evolutionary imperatives. Without this nagging need to keep going despite the odds, humanity would not have survived. Imagining life a thousand years ago makes it clear why we needed a God: someone to assure us that dying is not just another animal’s fate of decomposing and ultimately serving nature as fertilizer. Freud astutely saw the fear of death as one of the pillars of religious belief. “Religion is an illusion and it derives its strength from the fact that it falls in with our instinctual desires.”
In this new world, humanity was thrown, abruptly, into the vast, uncharted waters of the unknown, of nihilism. To lead a life wholly independent of religion was still a relatively very new task. Were we prepared? The very frameworks that once provided comfort and certainty were brutally dismantled; the very questions that led us to God still persist, even more poignantly. Nietzsche’s declaration was both a warning and a challenge. It was a call to confront the underlying existential crisis, to recognize the profound responsibility that comes with our newfound freedom. The Enlightenment brought about a renaissance of human potential, a flourishing of creativity and discovery. But with this liberation emerged, almost begrudgingly, the shadows of nihilism, the abyss of meaninglessness, and the existential vacuum. Nietzsche foresaw that, in the absence of God, humanity would face the daunting — and fascinatingly beautiful — task of finding or creating new values and purposes.
In the arts, thinkers and creators like Dostoevsky, Kafka, and later existentialists such as Camus delved into the implications of a world without divine oversight. Their works reflect the struggle to find meaning in a seemingly indifferent universe, a struggle that continues to resonate with the awake. Arguably, a part of the genius of such authors was the uniquely intimate and profound sense of fidelity to expression the chaos within. It is that willingness to explore and embrace with the utmost beauty a horrifying reality of internal spiriturual and moral and intellectual conflictions. Science, while offering incredible advancements and a deeper understanding of the natural world, could not address the deeper, existential questions that haunted humanity.
The scientific revolution granted us the tools to manipulate and comprehend our environment, but it also unveiled the vast, impersonal mechanisms of the universe, further deepening the existential void. This void left people adrift, alienated from themselves, estranged from those around them, and severed from the very nature that birthed and sustains them. We not only abandoned Mother Nature but also actively suffocated her, smothering the very essence that once nurtured our souls. In our pursuit of knowledge and control, we lost the intimate connection to the world, sacrificing the harmony that once existed between humanity and the natural world.
In the end, Nietzsche’s proclamation that “God is dead” is not just a celebration of the decline of religious belief but a profound warning on the human condition. It compels us to engage with brutal and uncomfortable questions, often without answers, and hence the beautiful nature of living. It is the very sense of amazement, curiosity, and skepticism, displayed by a toddler, that religion sought to address. Confronting these questions anew to forge Our path in the shadow of a fallen God.
“Beauty will save the world” — Fyodor Dostoevsky