God Is Dead

God is dead.
God remains dead.
And we have killed him.
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?
What water is there for us to clean ourselves?
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?”
— Nietzsche, The Gay Science (1882)
God Is Dead
I receive a call from Emily, an old girlfriend…
Nervous and anxious she asks me to rush over to see and to talk…
Emily was due back at work but never showed up…
Emily had been missing for several days when she called…
I rushed over to her apartment…
Anxious to know how she was…
Where she had been….
Emily was careful and reluctant to let me into her apartment…
She looked gaunt and exhausted…
Her eyes were mad, her eyes moist with tears…
We sat on the couch and she said, “I killed God.”
“You killed God?”
“Yes.”
“How – what do you mean, you killed God?”
“That’s just it. I killed God.”
“How did you kill God? How did you meet God
“I beat him over the head with a long piece of wood I had found further down in the forest, that I had used as a walking stick to climb up the mountain.” “Emily, you went on vacation to Central America, right?” “Yes I did. Belize actually.” “Belize. Did you find God in Belize?” “No. Not exactly.”
I found a path…
I found a walking stick…
That I used it to climb the mountain…
And used it to kill god…
So you met God…
Yes…
You killed God with a branch?
Yes…
And God did nothing to stop you…
No, not one bit of protest, God is dead…
How do you know it was God…
I was told by the elders in the village…
And why assume they were telling you the truth?
I traveled a long way because of what I’d been told about by many of the villagers before…
How remote it was in a place so far away…
And what had you been told?
Magic, the village held secrets and magic was one of them…
And that I could find God…
Jeremy, I was a broken woman…
Space and time, I needed space and time…
I couldn’t interact, I couldn’t work with you or others…
I considered life as it was and it made no sense so I left…
And looked for God.
For all intent, I am dead…
Said God…
I tried to care so much…
Too much that I became an angry God…
And my children turned away from me…
Having lost all memory of me…
There was no son…
An embellishment by those who thought I should…
One of the hundreds who spoke as if they knew me and of my power…
I am dead to humankind and they are dead to me…
I must remain as the essence of humankind though…
I leave and will wither without me…
I must wait until humankind throws itself into the fire…
I must wait until they release me…
The chain keeps me here…
Chained to a stick in the ground…
I make no choice…
I have no choice…except to be killed by the hand of one of my children…
You can free me…
Instead perhaps I should let you suffer, bring you within a hairs breath of death…
Why do you hate me so?
I don’t hate you…but I don’t love you…I don’t need you.
Are you sure?
I don’t know.
I recall once as a child I would serve God…
How could God ever die?
The universe is greater than you can ever imagine…I am a layer among layers…
I represent a greater power…Humankind called me God and I am not for there is a God above me…
And I’m sure above that…the hierarchy seems endless…perhaps it is…
Perhaps, I am not needed?
ralphpitre@gmail.com

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