HAPPY EASTER!
I figured that on this beautiful morning, I would share with you my favourite Easter sermon.
On Easter Sunday, 1950, during High Mass at the Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris, Michel Mourre walked up to the altar during a pause in the service, dressed in Dominican monk's robes. He then delivered this speech unto the audience of ten thousand people:
Today Easter day of the Holy Year, here under the emblem of Notre-Dame of Paris, I accuse the universal Catholic Church of the lethal diversion of our living strength towards an empty heaven.
I accuse the Catholic Church of swindling.
I accuse the Catholic Church of infecting the world with its funereal morality and of being the running sore on the decomposed body of the West.
Verily I say unto you: God is dead.
We vomit the agonizing insipidity of your prayers; for your prayers have been the greasy smoke over the battlefields of our Europe.
Go forth then into the tragic and exalting desert of a world where God is dead and till this earth anew with your bare hands, with your PROUD hands, with your unpraying hands.
Today Easter day of the Holy Year, here under the emblem of Notre-Dame of France, we proclaim the death of the Christ-god, so that Man may live at last.
Of course, he only got as far as "God is dead" before the guards charged him with swords.
On Easter Sunday, 1950, during High Mass at the Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris, Michel Mourre walked up to the altar during a pause in the service, dressed in Dominican monk's robes. He then delivered this speech unto the audience of ten thousand people:
Today Easter day of the Holy Year, here under the emblem of Notre-Dame of Paris, I accuse the universal Catholic Church of the lethal diversion of our living strength towards an empty heaven.
I accuse the Catholic Church of swindling.
I accuse the Catholic Church of infecting the world with its funereal morality and of being the running sore on the decomposed body of the West.
Verily I say unto you: God is dead.
We vomit the agonizing insipidity of your prayers; for your prayers have been the greasy smoke over the battlefields of our Europe.
Go forth then into the tragic and exalting desert of a world where God is dead and till this earth anew with your bare hands, with your PROUD hands, with your unpraying hands.
Today Easter day of the Holy Year, here under the emblem of Notre-Dame of France, we proclaim the death of the Christ-god, so that Man may live at last.
Of course, he only got as far as "God is dead" before the guards charged him with swords.