Thiên Chúa đã chết !

Thiên Chúa đã chết, tức là Thiên Chúa đã ... sống  


Thiên Chúa đã chết ! Thiên Chúa sẽ mãi mãi chết ! Và chính chúng ta đã giết Ngài ! Làm sao chúng ta, những kẻ sát nhân trong những kẻ sát nhân, có thể tự an ủi mình ? Những gì linh thiêng và quyền năng nhất mà thế giới có được cho đến bây giờ, đã đổ máu dưới lưỡi dao của chúng ta. Ai sẽ rửa cho chúng ta vết máu ấy ? Nguồn nước nào sẽ tẩy sạch cho chúng ta ? Chúng ta sẽ phải đền tội ra sao ? sẽ bắt buộc phải tạo nên nghi thức nào ? Sự vĩ đại của việc ấy có quá lớn đối với chúng ta hay không ? Chính chúng ta có buộc phải trở thành những vị Chúa, chỉ để trở thành xứng đáng với họ ? 

Nietzsche — Le Gai Savoir, Livre troisième, 125 

Lời bàn : 
Thiên Chúa đã chết, tức là Thiên Chúa đã ... sống ! 

Nietzsche không tự nói câu này
mà đặt nó trong cửa miệng của một người điên, xông vào một đám người vô thần (!), hô hoán : Thiên Chúa đã chết ! để rồi than thở "tôi đến quá sớm ... tai của con người chưa nghe nổi lời tôi nói".

Các bạn có thể đọc nguyên đoạn 125 của quyển ba, sách "the Gay Science"

"Have you not heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the marketplace and cried incessantly: "I am looking for God! I am looking for God!"

As many of those who did not believe in God were standing together there he caused considerable laughter. "Have you lost him then?" said one. "Did he lose his way like a child?" said another. "Or is he hiding? Is he scared of us? Did he emigrate?" They shouted and laughed in this manner. The madman sprang into their midst and pierced them with his look. "Where has God gone?" he cried. "I will tell you. We have killed him — you and I. We are all his murderers. But how have we done this? How were we able to drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What did we do when we unchained this earth from its sun? Where is it moving now? Where are we moving now? Away from all suns? Aren't we perpetually falling? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there any up or down left? Aren't we straying as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Hasn't it become colder? Isn't more and more night coming on all the time? Must not lanterns be lit in the morning? Do we not hear anything yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we not smell anything yet of God’s putrefaction? Gods, too, decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we, the murderers of all murderers, comfort ourselves? That which was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet possessed has bled to death under our knives — who will wipe this blood off us? With what water could we purify ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games will we need to invent? Isn't the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we not ourselves become gods simply to seem worthy of it?"

"There has never been a greater deed — and whoever shall be born after us, for the sake of this deed he shall be part of a higher history than all the history that came before." Here the madman fell silent and again regarded his listeners; and they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last he threw his lantern to the ground and it shattered and went out. "I come too early," he said then; "my time hasn't come yet. This tremendous event is still on its way, still traveling — it has not yet reached human ears. Lightning and thunder need time, deeds need time after they have been done before they can be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than the most distant stars — and yet we have done it ourselves."

It has also been related that on that same day the madman entered various churches and there sang a requiem aeternam deo. Led out and told to shut up, he is said to have retorted each time: "What are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of God?"

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