Nietzsche tells this story of the madman (edited for length)–
Have you not heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the market place, and cried incessantly: “I seek God! I seek God!”—As many of those who did not believe in God were standing around just then, he provoked much laughter. Has he got lost? asked one. Did he lose his way like a child? asked another. Or is he hiding? Is he afraid of us? Has he gone on a voyage? emigrated?—Thus they yelled and laughedThe madman jumped into their midst and pierced them with his eyes. “Whither is God?” he cried; “I will tell you. We have killed him—you and I. All of us are his murderers. But how did we do this? How could we drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What were we doing when we unchained this earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving? Away from all suns? Are we not plunging continually? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there still any up or down? Are we not straying, as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is not night continually closing in on us? Do we not need to light lanterns in the morning?
“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? There has never been a greater deed; and whoever is born after us—for the sake of this deed he will belong to a higher history than all history hitherto.”
Here the madman fell silent and looked again at his listeners; and they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last he threw his lantern on the ground, and it broke into pieces and went out. “I have come too early,” he said then; “my time is not yet. This tremendous event is still on its way, still wandering; it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder require time; the light of the stars requires time; deeds, though done, still require time to be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than most distant stars—and yet they have done it themselves.
Nietzsche, himself not a fan of God, relates this parable of modern man “killing God,” removing God from their view of the world. God, who gave the world meaning and kept it centered. We have killed Him and thus have unchained ourselves from our source of light.
Nietzsche knew that if man removes God, he must attempt to take His place. Since from God comes meaning, morality, and truth, and He has been killed by a world who feels they have no more need for Him, we must invent this ourselves. We must light puny lanterns during the day to give us light to see since the source of all light has been diminished by us.
“Dead are all the gods: now do we desire the overman to live.”
—Nietzsche, trans. Thomas Common, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Part I, Section XXII,3
When men take the place of God, what are the consequences?
Throughout history, even in Christian circles, when men take the authority of God onto themselves, we have met with disaster. How much more when the Christian God is wiped out from the social conscience? The Christian God who says that all men and women, of every color, are made in His image and deserve life and love. The Christian God who tells us what is wrong and how we should behave toward one another. What are the consequences of His “death,” as powerful men ascend the ladder to take his place?