Work Text:
I believe in a crying God.
They tell me that God is good and God is great. They tell me that if God was good and God was great, God would save us all.
"If God wants the ice caps intact, then they'll be intact."
"If God was real, why is there war?"
But I believe in a crying God.
A god who sits atop their throne and cries for they cannot stop us. We are their glorious creations, building, burning, believing, and breaking. They molded us with love and tears for that was all they could do. We are their masterpiece, their triumphant creations traveling their long built world. Do you know how long it takes to worldbuild a universe? It took Tolkein 40 years to create Middle-earth, God has spent their life on us.
We live and we die. Each of us has our own life, independent from God, independent from anything. And we chose to destroy everything. Not collectively of course, God would not cry for a collective hatred of their work. There’s some hope in such a hatred. But no, individually we chose destruction; everyday we chose death. We kill each other in wars, destroy the climate, and hate each other on incredible scales. We fight people online, silently judge anyone close enough, and ignore pleas from the rest of creation to just stop. We have rendered God helpless in the destruction of their world.
God could not stop us if they tried. But of course, they cannot try for that little touch would simply speed up the collapse of their grand project. We have a God who cries atop their throne because they are helpless to stop us from plunging further into our spiral of self destruction.
So I tell them, "God can’t stop the ice caps from melting because we already took a flamethrower to them."
"God can’t keep us from warring when we fight with people we do and don’t know."
So I say God cries. What can you do but weep when you see your ultimate feat tear itself apart.