Are Mass Shootings a Reflection of Our Godless Society?

“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?”

Glenn revisited the famous “God is dead” quote from German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche on today’s show, analyzing how our society has disintegrated since people decided they no longer believed in God and asking if that loss has encouraged mass shootings. When we’re told that God doesn’t exist, there are no heroes to look up to and even science can be ignored, what else can we expect but chaos?

“How much … has the foundation for our society been laid to grow these killers?” Glenn asked. “How much of just the removal of basic principles and then not replacing them with anything other than gobbledygook?”

This article provided courtesy of TheBlaze.

GLENN: So I want to tell you about a movement now to get schools just to recognize the sixth commandment. Just can be can we -- can we recognize the sixth. Don't need to have all ten. Let's just put one in. You can't murder.

How much of this has been -- how much of this has been -- has the foundation for our society been laid to grow these killers? How much of just the removal of basic principles and then not replacing them with anything other than gobbledegook.

We're doing this now with science. We're now saying that just because you say you're a man or say you're a woman, you are. Rejecting science. We've always been told, as religious people, you are science deniers. But we're now being told that just because you say you're a woman, you are a woman. Denying the X and Y chromosomes.

What is happening to us? What happens to us is, no matter what the god is, no matter what the -- we used to -- develop a society based on what the shoe box says. And inside the shoe box is a Magic 8-Ball. And that's what we've set our society up on.

Well, we might go and say, you know, we -- am I a woman? Shake the Magic 8-Ball and it says, ask again later.

And we build our whole foundation on that. Well, if you take away the Magic 8-Ball, you better replace it with something else that is going to decide what is true and what is not.

We've taken away our Magic 8-Ball. We've taken away the truth that we all recognize, the Judeo-Christian truth. We have taken -- we have taken God and chased him out in our society. What made western culture different was, we looked to Jesus. Jesus was a messenger of peace.

Now, religion's got screwed up all the time. All the time. But generally speaking, when we would take these big leaps forward, it was because we were basing our society and the greatest men in our society, on Jesus.

They were the ones who sacrificed it all. They were the ones who were peaceful, who were gentle, who were giving, who were healing. Who were listeners and comforters. Who took more than their fair share for everybody else. And that was something that was grown inside of us.

Now we've gotten rid of that character. And what have we replaced it with. Nothing. There is no hero. There is no archetype. There is nothing.

Point to what we're all striving to be. You know, we all -- we all chanted -- well, not all of us, but many chanted for change. To what?

To what? There has to be a point on the horizon. To what?

Many of us said, you're going to make these changes, and they're never going to be enough. It's never going to be enough. Because you haven't told us -- if you told us that look, we just want people to be fairly treated. Gay people should be able to get married. Fine. The way to solve this is to get the government out of marriage.

Otherwise, you cause far too many problems. So get government out of marriage. As a Christian, I don't get anything from the government declaring my marriage is sacred or valid. Who cares?

What we've done, however, is created a system to where now, what about the wedding cake? What about this? What about that? And the government has to be involved. That's not American. That's not freedom.

But because we don't have a point on the horizon, where we're saying, we're headed for that archetype. That's what we want. And this is what people are like, in that archetype. And they're well-defined characters, in all kinds of situations. We know how Jesus acted when he was angry. We know Jesus, how he acted when he was being scourged and accused. We know when he had the power to heal. We know how he acted when he was offered up the wealth of the earth. We know every scenario. We know.

Where is that archetype for us?

This is -- you know, I'm -- I'm reading Pinkerton and I'm also reading Jordan Peterson at the same time. And they're both coming at the problems of our society in very similar ways. Jordan Peterson, however, is saying there is a case for God here. Pinkerton is saying there is no case for God.

As I'm looking at -- as I'm looking at things, I'm realizing how foolish I have been. And how much -- how much I have to learn.

And how I have -- how I have allowed people to shape my thinking. For instance, I've always thought Nietzsche was, you know, God is dead. And it's nihilistic. And it's all over. And there's nothing good.

Nihilism. No, that's what he was warning against. And it's amazing, because he -- he makes this case that God is dead in something that he calls The Parable of the Madman. And the ending is what we've done.

We didn't listen to what he was saying. Listen to this Parable of a Madman.

Have you not heard of the madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours and ran into the marketplace and cried incessantly, I'm looking for God, I'm looking for God. And many of those who did not believe in God were standing together there and excited considerable laughter. And they said, oh, you lost him? Oh, did he lose his way like a child? Is he hiding? Oh, he's afraid of us. Has he gone on a voyage? Maybe he's emigrated. They shouted and they laughed.

And the madman sprang into their midst and pierced them with his glances. So here he is, around a bunch of people, who are mocking the fact that he's looking for God.

He says, where has he gone? I'll tell you, we have killed him. You and I. We are his murderers. But how have we done this? How are 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 the earth from its sun? Is it moving, or are we moving? Or are we perpetually falling backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there even an up or down left now? Ask yourself these questions. Is there an up or down left now? Do you know what is up, down, sideways? Do you know which way we're falling?

Are we falling to the left or are we falling to the right? Are we falling, or are we falling backward?

There's no consensus to this at all. We have no idea. That's what this, quote, madman was saying to the people.

We don't have any idea. Is it not more and more night coming all the time? Has it not become colder? Ask yourself that question. Are we not a colder society than we were 20 years ago, 40 years ago? Are we not colder in many ways?

Doesn't it seem like darkness is getting earlier and earlier now in our society?

He then says, the famous quote from Nietzsche, God is dead. God remains dead. Here is what we don't follow.

And we have killed him. How shall we murderers of all murderers console ourselves now?

Think of this. If there is no God, who is consoling? Where do you get your -- where do you get your peace, your solace?

He's saying, because in that society, that's -- everybody found it with God. That which is holiest and mightiest of all, that the world has yet possessed, has bled to death under our knives. Who is going to wipe this blood off of us? With what water could we purify ourselves? What festivals of atonement? What sacred games will we need to invent?

Now, think of that. We had a system. It was the atonement. It was for Christians. It was Jesus bore the sins so you can start over. Well, what is our -- what is our ritual of atonement now?

We don't have one as a society. There is no one who makes up for everything. There is no one who can forgive our sins. We just have to do it. You just forgive it. All you have to do is just stop drinking. Just stop drinking. All you have to do is stop eating so much. Just stop eating so much.

That's all you have to do. Then why don't we do it?

You know what I have to do? I just have to start exercising. Why don't we do it? There are things that we tell ourselves all the time that we just have to get over it, but why don't we?

That was an important ritual that we had. Now, here's where it gets interesting. Listen to what the people said.

Here the madman fell silent. He regarded his listeners -- they were silent as well and stared at him.

At last, he threw down his lantern to the ground and broke and it went out. I have come to, too, early, he said to them, my time is not yet come. The tremendous event is still on its way. Still traveling. It hasn't reached the ears of men yet. Lightning and thunder require time. The light of the stars require time.

Deeds require time, even after they are done, before they can even be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant than them from the distant stars. And yet, they had done it themselves. Meaning, Nietzsche is telling us now, what are you going to invent? Who is going to be your God? Who is going to make your rules?

Now, remember, he is writing this in Germany. And he is saying the Germans have lost their God. You're now going to have to restructure. So what is it? So it was built on the Progressive Era. It was built on science and pseudoscience. According to man. And man said, what you know we have to do is treat everybody equally? We have to be a collective. Instead of God saying, each of you are individuals, man said, yeah, but we're going to protect the individuals by working as a collective.

That led to death camps, death chambers, gas chambers, gulags, all over the world.

We have to fix reason firmly in her seat. But we also have to realize, we've killed God in our society. And it's going to end the same way it does every time a society kills God. If you want to kill God, then what are you replacing it with? Let's be very specific on that.

What is our God? What gives us eternal truth? What is that point on the horizon that we need to affix and look at and say, we're headed in that direction? If you get rid of the God who gave us the right of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, as individuals, if you get rid of him, then it's logical to have a conversation about getting rid of those rights.

But then, who is going to issue our rights? And what exactly do they mean?

What our response to Israel reveals about us

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I have been honored to receive the Defender of Israel Award from Prime Minister Netanyahu.

The Jerusalem Post recently named me one of the strongest Christian voices in support of Israel.

And yet, my support is not blind loyalty. It’s not a rubber stamp for any government or policy. I support Israel because I believe it is my duty — first as a Christian, but even if I weren’t a believer, I would still support her as a man of reason, morality, and common sense.

Because faith isn’t required to understand this: Israel’s existence is not just about one nation’s survival — it is about the survival of Western civilization itself.

It is a lone beacon of shared values in the Middle East. It is a bulwark standing against radical Islam — the same evil that seeks to dismantle our own nation from within.

And my support is not rooted in politics. It is rooted in something simpler and older than politics: a people’s moral and historical right to their homeland, and their right to live in peace.

Israel has that right — and the right to defend herself against those who openly, repeatedly vow her destruction.

Let’s make it personal: if someone told me again and again that they wanted to kill me and my entire family — and then acted on that threat — would I not defend myself? Wouldn’t you? If Hamas were Canada, and we were Israel, and they did to us what Hamas has done to them, there wouldn’t be a single building left standing north of our border. That’s not a question of morality.

That’s just the truth. All people — every people — have a God-given right to protect themselves. And Israel is doing exactly that.

My support for Israel’s right to finish the fight against Hamas comes after eighty years of rejected peace offers and failed two-state solutions. Hamas has never hidden its mission — the eradication of Israel. That’s not a political disagreement.

That’s not a land dispute. That is an annihilationist ideology. And while I do not believe this is America’s war to fight, I do believe — with every fiber of my being — that it is Israel’s right, and moral duty, to defend her people.

Criticism of military tactics is fair. That’s not antisemitism. But denying Israel’s right to exist, or excusing — even celebrating — the barbarity of Hamas? That’s something far darker.

We saw it on October 7th — the face of evil itself. Women and children slaughtered. Babies burned alive. Innocent people raped and dragged through the streets. And now, to see our own fellow citizens march in defense of that evil… that is nothing short of a moral collapse.

If the chants in our streets were, “Hamas, return the hostages — Israel, stop the bombing,” we could have a conversation.

But that’s not what we hear.

What we hear is open sympathy for genocidal hatred. And that is a chasm — not just from decency, but from humanity itself. And here lies the danger: that same hatred is taking root here — in Dearborn, in London, in Paris — not as horror, but as heroism. If we are not vigilant, the enemy Israel faces today will be the enemy the free world faces tomorrow.

This isn’t about politics. It’s about truth. It’s about the courage to call evil by its name and to say “Never again” — and mean it.

And you don’t have to open a Bible to understand this. But if you do — if you are a believer — then this issue cuts even deeper. Because the question becomes: what did God promise, and does He keep His word?

He told Abraham, “I will bless those who bless you, and curse those who curse you.” He promised to make Abraham the father of many nations and to give him “the whole land of Canaan.” And though Abraham had other sons, God reaffirmed that promise through Isaac. And then again through Isaac’s son, Jacob — Israel — saying: “The land I gave to Abraham and Isaac I give to you and to your descendants after you.”

That’s an everlasting promise.

And from those descendants came a child — born in Bethlehem — who claimed to be the Savior of the world. Jesus never rejected His title as “son of David,” the great King of Israel.

He said plainly that He came “for the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” And when He returns, Scripture says He will return as “the Lion of the tribe of Judah.” And where do you think He will go? Back to His homeland — Israel.

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And what will He find when He gets there? His brothers — or his brothers’ enemies? Will the roads where He once walked be preserved? Or will they lie in rubble, as Gaza does today? If what He finds looks like the aftermath of October 7th, then tell me — what will be my defense as a Christian?

Some Christians argue that God’s promises to Israel have been transferred exclusively to the Church. I don’t believe that. But even if you do, then ask yourself this: if we’ve inherited the promises, do we not also inherit the land? Can we claim the birthright and then, like Esau, treat it as worthless when the world tries to steal it?

So, when terrorists come to slaughter Israelis simply for living in the land promised to Abraham, will we stand by? Or will we step forward — into the line of fire — and say,

“Take me instead”?

Because this is not just about Israel’s right to exist.

It’s about whether we still know the difference between good and evil.

It’s about whether we still have the courage to stand where God stands.

And if we cannot — if we will not — then maybe the question isn’t whether Israel will survive. Maybe the question is whether we will.

America’s moral erosion: How we were conditioned to accept the unthinkable

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Every time we look away from lawlessness, we tell the next mob it can go a little further.

Chicago, Portland, and other American cities are showing us what happens when the rule of law breaks down. These cities have become openly lawless — and that’s not hyperbole.

When a governor declares she doesn’t believe federal agents about a credible threat to their lives, when Chicago orders its police not to assist federal officers, and when cartels print wanted posters offering bounties for the deaths of U.S. immigration agents, you’re looking at a country flirting with anarchy.

Two dangers face us now: the intimidation of federal officers and the normalization of soldiers as street police. Accept either, and we lose the republic.

This isn’t a matter of partisan politics. The struggle we’re watching now is not between Democrats and Republicans. It’s between good and evil, right and wrong, self‑government and chaos.

Moral erosion

For generations, Americans have inherited a republic based on law, liberty, and moral responsibility. That legacy is now under assault by extremists who openly seek to collapse the system and replace it with something darker.

Antifa, well‑financed by the left, isn’t an isolated fringe any more than Occupy Wall Street was. As with Occupy, big money and global interests are quietly aligned with “anti‑establishment” radicals. The goal is disruption, not reform.

And they’ve learned how to condition us. Twenty‑five years ago, few Americans would have supported drag shows in elementary schools, biological males in women’s sports, forced vaccinations, or government partnerships with mega‑corporations to decide which businesses live or die. Few would have tolerated cartels threatening federal agents or tolerated mobs doxxing political opponents. Yet today, many shrug — or cheer.

How did we get here? What evidence convinced so many people to reverse themselves on fundamental questions of morality, liberty, and law? Those long laboring to disrupt our republic have sought to condition people to believe that the ends justify the means.

Promoting “tolerance” justifies women losing to biological men in sports. “Compassion” justifies harboring illegal immigrants, even violent criminals. Whatever deluded ideals Antifa espouses is supposed to somehow justify targeting federal agents and overturning the rule of law. Our culture has been conditioned for this moment.

The buck stops with us

That’s why the debate over using troops to restore order in American cities matters so much. I’ve never supported soldiers executing civilian law, and I still don’t. But we need to speak honestly about what the Constitution allows and why. The Posse Comitatus Act sharply limits the use of the military for domestic policing. The Insurrection Act, however, exists for rare emergencies — when federal law truly can’t be enforced by ordinary means and when mobs, cartels, or coordinated violence block the courts.

Even then, the Constitution demands limits: a public proclamation ordering offenders to disperse, transparency about the mission, a narrow scope, temporary duration, and judicial oversight.

Soldiers fight wars. Cops enforce laws. We blur that line at our peril.

But we also cannot allow intimidation of federal officers or tolerate local officials who openly obstruct federal enforcement. Both extremes — lawlessness on one side and militarization on the other — endanger the republic.

The only way out is the Constitution itself. Protect civil liberty. Enforce the rule of law. Demand transparency. Reject the temptation to justify any tactic because “our side” is winning. We’ve already seen how fear after 9/11 led to the Patriot Act and years of surveillance.

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Two dangers face us now: the intimidation of federal officers and the normalization of soldiers as street police. Accept either, and we lose the republic. The left cannot be allowed to shut down enforcement, and the right cannot be allowed to abandon constitutional restraint.

The real threat to the republic isn’t just the mobs or the cartels. It’s us — citizens who stop caring about truth and constitutional limits. Anything can be justified when fear takes over. Everything collapses when enough people decide “the ends justify the means.”

We must choose differently. Uphold the rule of law. Guard civil liberties. And remember that the only way to preserve a government of, by, and for the people is to act like the people still want it.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

In the quiet aftermath of a profound loss, the Christian community mourns the unexpected passing of Dr. Voddie Baucham, a towering figure in evangelical circles. Known for his defense of biblical truth, Baucham, a pastor, author, and theologian, left a legacy on family, faith, and opposing "woke" ideologies in the church. His book Fault Lines challenged believers to prioritize Scripture over cultural trends. Glenn had Voddie on the show several times, where they discussed progressive influences in Christianity, debunked myths of “Christian nationalism,” and urged hope amid hostility.

The shock of Baucham's death has deeply affected his family. Grieving, they remain hopeful in Christ, with his wife, Bridget, now facing the task of resettling in the US without him. Their planned move from Lusaka, Zambia, was disrupted when their home sale fell through last December, resulting in temporary Airbnb accommodations, but they have since secured a new home in Cape Coral that requires renovations. To ensure Voddie's family is taken care of, a fundraiser is being held to raise $2 million, which will be invested for ongoing support, allowing Bridget to focus on her family.

We invite readers to contribute prayerfully. If you feel called to support the Bauchams in this time of need, you can click here to donate.

We grieve and pray with hope for the Bauchams.

May Voddie's example inspire us.

Loneliness isn’t just being alone — it’s feeling unseen, unheard, and unimportant, even amid crowds and constant digital chatter.

Loneliness has become an epidemic in America. Millions of people, even when surrounded by others, feel invisible. In tragic irony, we live in an age of unparalleled connectivity, yet too many sit in silence, unseen and unheard.

I’ve been experiencing this firsthand. My children have grown up and moved out. The house that once overflowed with life now echoes with quiet. Moments that once held laughter now hold silence. And in that silence, the mind can play cruel games. It whispers, “You’re forgotten. Your story doesn’t matter.”

We are unique in our gifts, but not in our humanity. Recognizing this shared struggle is how we overcome loneliness.

It’s a lie.

I’ve seen it in others. I remember sitting at Rockefeller Center one winter, watching a woman lace up her ice skates. Her clothing was worn, her bag battered. Yet on the ice, she transformed — elegant, alive, radiant.

Minutes later, she returned to her shoes, merged into the crowd, unnoticed. I’ve thought of her often. She was not alone in her experience. Millions of Americans live unseen, performing acts of quiet heroism every day.

Shared pain makes us human

Loneliness convinces us to retreat, to stay silent, to stop reaching out to others. But connection is essential. Even small gestures — a word of encouragement, a listening ear, a shared meal — are radical acts against isolation.

I’ve learned this personally. Years ago, a caller called me “Mr. Perfect.” I could have deflected, but I chose honesty. I spoke of my alcoholism, my failed marriage, my brokenness. I expected judgment. Instead, I found resonance. People whispered back, “I’m going through the same thing. Thank you for saying it.”

Our pain is universal. Everyone struggles with self-doubt and fear. Everyone feels, at times, like a fraud. We are unique in our gifts, but not in our humanity. Recognizing this shared struggle is how we overcome loneliness.

We were made for connection. We were built for community — for conversation, for touch, for shared purpose. Every time we reach out, every act of courage and compassion punches a hole in the wall of isolation.

You’re not alone

If you’re feeling alone, know this: You are not invisible. You are seen. You matter. And if you’re not struggling, someone you know is. It’s your responsibility to reach out.

Loneliness is not proof of brokenness. It is proof of humanity. It is a call to engage, to bear witness, to connect. The world is different because of the people who choose to act. It is brighter when we refuse to be isolated.

We cannot let silence win. We cannot allow loneliness to dictate our lives. Speak. Reach out. Connect. Share your gifts. By doing so, we remind one another: We are all alike, and yet each of us matters profoundly.

In this moment, in this country, in this world, what we do matters. Loneliness is real, but so is hope. And hope begins with connection.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.