#tale said they look similar too sO I HAVE RECEIVED VINDICATION

[banqanas]

Fanta’s boyfriend materials

[a-queer-seminarian]

Hello, you seem to be knowledgeable about god. Do you know where to find him and what his weaknesses are? I have dedicated my life to hunting him down and killing him for the indescribable amount of suffering he has directly or indirectly caused.

cw: violent language, including about fighting / killing God; as well as discussion of the Shoah / Holocaust later on in the post

(gonna start this long-ass response by saying that yes, i know this anon is probably joking about dedicating their life to hunting down God, but i’m gonna answer it like they’re serious because that’s the kind of person i am haha)

honestly anon, all power to ya! it sounds like my own understanding of God is quite different from yours (for instance, i would claim that God’s main weakness is actually Their best strength, which is compassion and steadfast solidarity) -- but the question of why God allows suffering is one i come back to all the damn time.

if you do track God down -- if God turns out to be a Being that can be tracked down to one location and time -- please do deliver my regards and my sincerest “WTF??”

you’re not the first to demand God answer for the suffering that’s happened on Their watch --

for if God is truly omnipotent, and truly all-loving, why don’t they do something about all this pain??? Indeed, the Bible is rich with similar demands -- from the psalmists to Job to Jesus himself from the cross (quoting a psalm, he cries, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me??”).

You might already know all this, but if not, the question of God’s place in suffering is often referred to as theodicy, at least in Christian circles.

That term comes from the Greek for god + justice, so what it literally means is “justifying (or vindicating) God”....which I’m not a huge fan of, because it implies that when we explore this question of where God is in suffering, we already know the result will be that God will be proven innocent (or at least “not guilty”).

But do we know that?? See the bottom of this post for an example of a time people of great faith found God guilty!

Anyway, theodicy describes intellectual efforts “to jerry-rig three mutually exclusive terms into harmony: divine power, goodness, and the experiences of evil.“ - Wendy Farley

If you want to learn more about theodicy and the way some theologians have “made sense” of suffering, check out this introductory post I’ve got.

Or wander through my whole #theodicy tag over on my other blog.

I invite you to explore theodicy not in any attempt to convince you of anything, but so you know some of the arguments you’re up against! Honestly, the more i explore theodicy, the less satisfied i am with any justifications for why God doesn’t intervene in the face of so much suffering...so if you do the reading and still conclude God is guilty, i’m not gonna tell you you’re definitely wrong.

Anyway. Like i said, you’re not alone in wanting answers for why God -- however, i don’t know that i’ve seen anyone else with your determination to find and kill God!

(Except, and i hate that i know this lol, that’s apparently the plot of the final season of Supernatural -- they find out God’s a total ass who not only is guilty of negligence but also directly responsible for a lot of suffering for his own sadistic enjoyment. so. they kill the bastard.)

Still, while i don’t know that i’ve seen too many people who want to take God out, the idea of wrestling God is pervasive -- especially within Judaism, but also among some Christians.

i’m very into wrestling God, myself, finding it far more faithful to the God who gifted us free will and invites us into true, mutual relationship than unquestioning obedience.

i have a whole #wrestling God tag over on my other blog.

For the most intense example of wrestling with God i’ve yet seen, with God put on trial and found guilty, keep reading.

_________

cw: discussion of the Shoah / Holocaust below

You might connect to Elie Wiesel’s play The Trial of God, or the movie that was made based off it. Wiesel survived Nazi concentration camps but ceased to believe in God after what he suffered. His play was inspired by something he witnessed while a teen at Auschwitz:

"I witnessed a strange trial. Three rabbis—all erudite and pious men—decided one winter evening to indict God for allowing his children to be massacred. I remember: I was there, and I felt like crying. But nobody cried."

Robert McAfee Brown wrote more about this trial Wiesel witnessed:

“The trial lasted several nights. Witnesses were heard, evidence was gathered, conclusions were drawn, all of which issued finally in a unanimous verdict: the Lord God Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth, was found guilty of crimes against creation and humankind.”

Note that in 2008 when commenting on this event, Wiesel clarified that “At the end of the trial, they used the word chayav, rather than ‘guilty.’ It means ‘He owes us something.’”

In the chapter “No God, Only Auschwitz” of his book Embracing Hopelessness, Miguel A. De La Torre comments on this verdict by explaining that if God wasn’t going to intervene, then God must at the least speak -- but instead, God was silent:

“God must be held accountable for refusing to speak to those yearning for God’s voice. Something. Anything. A note of solidarity. A testament of love, accompaniment. But they hear and receive nothing. The trial...ends with God owing us something.

De La Torre goes on to describe the play Wiesel wrote based on this memory, which actually takes place in a 1649 Ukranian village, rather than at Auschwitz. The Cossacks raid the village and kill all but two of its Jewish residents.

“In Wiesel’s play, he has the inkeeper Berish voice the same questions those sitting in death camps centuries later asked, if not audibly, then silently:

‘To mention God’s mercy in Shamgorod [Auschwitz] is an insult. Speak of his cruelty instead. ...I want to understand why. He is giving strength to the killers and nothing but tears and the shame of helplessness to the victims. ...Either he is responsible or He is not. If He is, let’s judge him; if He is not, let him stop judging us. ...

‘[I] accuse Him of hostility, cruelty and indifference. ...Either He knows what’s happening to us, or He doesn’t wish to know! In both cases He is...guilty! Would a father stand by, quietly, silently, and watch his children being slaughtered?’”

De La Torre continues with his own thoughts on all this:

“The horrors humanity faces indict God as being less loving and attentive than sinful parents. I hesitate to make any pronouncements as to the character of God because in the final analysis, I lack any empirical knowledge upon which to base my study. Still with all my heart and being I want to say: my God is the God of the oppressed who incarnates Godself among the least of these.

I want to make this bold claim based on the testimony of the gospel witness. But in the midst of the dark night, I confess this hopeful belief is at best a tenet accepted by faith, lacking any means of proving the truth or falsehood of the claim. In the shadow of Auschwitz, though I am not Jewish, nonetheless I am left wondering if the precious Deity who notices the fall of a sparrow is blind to God’s children crushed in the winepress. Do I dare wonder if God is the God of the oppressors?

...Or maybe this is a God who really wants to do good, but lacks the power to do anything in the face of inhumanity. ..."

There’s one more piece to this tale of Wiesel’s witness of the trial of God at Auschwitz. And that is that, after declaring God guilty (or chayav)...

...after what Wiesel describes as an "infinity of silence", the Talmudic scholar looked at the sky and said "It's time for evening prayers", and the members of the tribunal recited Maariv, the evening service. (McAfee Brown)

...That ending is the part that astounds and awes me. These Jewish prisoners at Auschwitz find God guilty -- and then proceed to pray as they always do. I am reminded of what my Jewish friends as well as various Jewish scholars have told me: that Judaism is totally compatible with wrestling with God and even with disbelief. Whether these Jewish prisoners believed God even existed, they prayed -- because that tradition of prayer is what unites them to one another, to their people.

As De La Torre closes his telling of Wiesel’s story,

“At the conclusion of the movie God on Trial, based on the events Wiesel described, shortly after the barrack inmates find God guilty, and those chosen are marched to the gas chamber, they cover their heads and pray. ...

Believers and unbelievers who took the audacious act of placing God on trial do what is totally illogical -- in the midst of their hopelessness they demonstrate their faith as they march toward the gas chambers, or they defiantly embrace who they are while still remaining in heated conversation, damning God. It matters not if God still hears their prayers, or if there even is a God to hear; they still pray, they still debate -- not for God’s sake, but for their own.”

And that brings me to the one bit of actual advice I’ll give you, anon:

If you want to spend your life “hunting God down,” as I said, all power to you! But I do suggest you ponder for whose sake you do so -- and whether you do so for justice or just revenge. What good does such a quest do for those who are suffering now? Are their other paths you could follow that would bring more good? What about your own healing? I imagine you’re not interested in repairing any relationship with religion -- would walking away from God rather than hounding God be a more healing and fruitful path for your finite life?

I’ll close with one more quote from De La Torre, from the very end of his chapter:

“As I stroll through what was once the concentration camp of Dachau, I am cognizant that this space witnessed the unspeakable horrors that befell God’s children at the hands of Christians hoping for a better, purer society and future. ...So do not offer me your words of hope; offer me your praxis for justice. ...In the midst of unfathomable suffering, the earth’s marginalized no longer need pious pontifications about rewards in some hereafter. Nor do they need their oppressors providing the answers for their salvation. What is needed is disruption of the norm to push humanity toward an unachievable justice.

When there is nothing to lose, when work does not set you free, not only are multiple possibilities opened up with new opportunities for radical change unimaginable to those playing it safe; but also a venue is provided by which to get real with whatever this God signifies. ...”

[texanredrose]

Wrong Side of Heaven (Pt 2)

Haha, I can’t count; there’s six parts in total. I’m silly.

Part 1 / Part 2 (here) / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Blake narrowed her eyes, trying very hard to keep the heat from her voice and failing miserably. They sat in a diner in the middle of the night, having left one city and started heading to another, hoping to draw even more Demons out into the open. At least, that was her excuse; the creature across the table from her, on the other hand, seemed to possess a penchant for... sightseeing.

It sounded preposterous but there was no mistaking the genuine enthusiasm with which the Demon partook in the simple things of the mortals' world, like food and drink, music and idle chatter, a host of things that would never be found in the pits of Hell. She'd already traveled through several cities on the west coast and decided that a change in scenery was in order. Somewhere, in a hidden satchel the Fallen Angel could never find when she looked for it but always seemed within Weiss' reach, there existed a list of things the Demon wanted to seek out, a to-do list of sorts, and she seemed eager in crossing things off rather than sitting back and waiting for the messengers of Hell to come for her.

"You can't be serious," Blake said, pushing aside her empty plate and leaning back against the booth's seat. It still bothered her, sometimes, leaning back and not feeling the familiar pressure of her wings, but she'd grown somewhat accustomed to it by this point. The Fallen Angel had resolved to keep them hidden away except when hunting, hating the strange sensation of them at her back, these pale imitations. "There can't be things like that in Hell."

"Why? Because it's such a paragon of order and discipline that follows the rules of Heaven so very closely?" Weiss chuckled, stabbing a bit of egg with her fork. The smell of the midnight breakfast made her companion want to crinkle her nose in distaste but the Demon paid her reaction no mind, thoroughly enjoying the stuff. "Whether or not you believe me, I'm the one who did it. So, between us, I suppose you don't have a real leg to stand on in this argument."

Blake rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. She shouldn't be so surprised at how smug the Pride Demon could be at times, yet, there it was. "So you defeated an ancient armor possessed of cursed souls, the likes of which not even your dark master could command, in order to escape the confines of Hell. Is that it?"

"He's not my master." Blue eyes landed on her, briefly, as the Demon's voice gained a razor sharp edge, though there was no stopping the way her left hand drifted towards the hallow of her throat, where her collar and chain would be if she dropped her disguise. Something about the subconscious gesture bothered Blake, seeing too much similarity between it and the way she'd reach up, trying to find a halo that wasn't there. The only difference lay in how her expression always turned wistful when confronted with the reminder of her past while her companion always looked more... bitter, as if regarding the remaining links with the same revulsion as many Angels saw her kin. "I am my own master, now."

The Fallen Angel put her hands up in surrender, turning to look through the window to the darkened scenery outside. The diner itself wasn't much to look at, some truck stop between cities that probably never saw more than a hundred people at the same time, and the desert beyond held little charm to her eyes. A wide waste, nothing like the paradise that was her former home.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Amber eyes slid to blue, noting the hint of amusement in them.

"I believe we agreed on sharing the peculiar circumstances that landed us in this... unusual arrangement."

That was putting things lightly. An alliance between Heaven and Hell- such things were beyond impossible, one would think, even if their respective minions could find a reason to not continue the eternal struggle. Yet, somehow, against all odds, the two had gotten on... rather well, all things considered. She'd contemplating staking the Demon only twice since they'd started traveling together, because they both apparently had quite the tempers regarding certain subjects, and the way those blue eyes had fallen on her seemed to indicate the sentiment was returned more than once, yet... well, they'd made amends. Weiss had even ceded ground, a thing the Fallen Angel wouldn't have believed possible before this whole fiasco. A Pride Demon admitting she wasn't right- how unimaginably strange.

But, it happened, and with that concession came an attempt on Blake’s part to continue bridging the gap. So, she'd suggested this particular topic, with Weiss going first. The only downside being, of course, that she now had to return the favor.

"Right." Blake sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose to stem her frustration. "I... I wasn't one of the Archangels, or the Seraphims, or any of the higher orders. Just a... trainee, I suppose you could say. Growing into my wings, still finding my way among the orders." She shifted, uncomfortable with the topic but wanting to keep her word, at least. "Adam... we were friends. He was older by a few centuries, seemed to know his way around Heaven, devoted and dedicated, and we... became close." Her voice was losing strength, so she cleared her throat and continued. "He wanted to be one of the Archangels, but they wouldn't take him. Said he could be easily swayed, that he didn't have the purity it took to combat the stronger Demons. They saw something in him that I couldn't, so... when he suggested that the other Angels were corrupt, when he preached about division in Heaven, a snake in our midst that had tainted the higher orders... I believed him."

"Forgive me the interruption... but I sense you're not being entirely truthful." The Demon narrowed her eyes. "There's no reason to hide. It's not like I'm in much of a position to judge."

She had a thought to brush the accusation off, continue with her tale without any amendments... but perhaps she'd spent too long outside Heaven's bounds, seeing sense in the words of a creature of Hell. "There was a time when I looked down on the mortal world and thought... I'd like to spend a day or two among them." She turned her head towards the window, tracing the outline of the horizon. "Walk their cities, listen to their talk, partake in their joys and sorrows- something more exciting than paradise." A bitter chuckle slipped past her lips. "We're not supposed to, you know. Angels only leave Heaven to aid mortals or combat Demons, never for their own desires. I wanted more. I was greedy-"

"That's not greed." Weiss scoffed, abandoning her food and crossing her arms over her chest. "Having aspirations, being curious about things you've never experienced- that's no sin, Blake."

"It might as well have been," she replied quickly, leveling a short glare at her companion before her gaze fell, staring at the table between them. "It was a crack in my armor that Adam exploited. He said there was nothing keeping us from interacting with the mortals' world as our own except the Highest's decree, and if we overthrew him, we could be even better Angels than before. Looking back now, I can see how he was letting ambition cloud his judgment, the same as another before him. But at the time? I allowed myself to be led astray and ignored all evidence to the contrary." Her expression soured. "There were others like me, ones who followed him at first, but I was stubborn, clung to the foolish belief he was righteous long after the others abandoned us- and when we were finally defeated, when our wings were broken, that's when I saw myself for what I was." The Fallen Angel ducked her head further, shoulders sagging. "A blind fool who charged recklessly in pursuit of something I didn't understand, thinking myself vindicated when I had no idea what the difference between right and wrong was, putting others in jeopardy for my own gain, and all to help someone who'd fallen even farther than I had into sin." Her hands curled into fists. "That's how I ended up here."

Silence drew tight between them, tight as a harp's string.

"You're quite the wordsmith, you know, with a flair for the dramatic." The Demon laughed lightly, picking up her cup of coffee and taking a sip. "I think you take too much credit, though." Blake shot her a pinched look of two parts frustration and one part annoyance that was shrugged off with ease. "Had you abandoned the cause with the others, it seems entirely likely this... Adam character would've gone just as far, so who did you put in jeopardy? Aside from yourself." She reached for the pot, pouring the last of it into the cup and taking a moment to enjoy inhaling the strong scent of the steam. "You made a mistake. If I remember the gospels correctly, mistakes can be forgiven. Isn't that why you're running around, staking Demons in the first place? As penance for your foolishness?" She didn't offer any form of answer; it was obviously a rhetorical question. "I wonder if this Adam of yours-"

"He's not mine." She snapped, a blush coming to her cheeks at the little smirk that adorned her companion's expression. The Fallen Angel had walked straight into that one, frowning severely and trying to ignore Weiss' smugness. "He's not my anything."

"Do you think he's doing the same? Seeking penance?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "He's more likely to walk into Hell willingly than beg forgiveness."

"Then he's an Angel no more, correct?" She gestured at the top of Blake's head. "You still want your halo and you're working to reclaim it. I think that says more about your character than a single err in judgment, no matter how profound."

Whoever thought she'd receive a pep talk from a Demon. "Is this the part where you try and convince me that we're all bound to sin?"

Weiss looked at her then, thoughtful. "You know, I've never quite understood that. Sin... always condensed to a single word, yet that never encompasses the whole of the thing." She turned her head, discreetly motioning towards a man sitting at the diner's counter. "Take that man, for instance. He stole that jacket, and the boots, but everything you see on him now? That's all he owns."

Sometimes, she found herself a bit jealous; while Blake had been stripped of her Heavenly powers, the Demon remained in full possession of her faculties. She could see with the eyes of an immortal, all the marks upon the souls around them, while the Fallen Angel could only guess. She got vague sensations, sometimes, but never the concrete proof she would with her full wings. "His plight is unfortunate but he can be forgiven. All he must do is ask."

"And that's where the problem lies." Their gazes met. "For a man with nothing, stealing essentials to survive is no sin- to my mind, at least." She nodded towards him. "Killing the man who wore them before him, however... well, that's just a bit extra." Amber eyes widened, glancing his way again. "I can see the mark on his forehead. I can see all the sin within him- all the poor decisions that he could ask forgiveness for, and all the ones for which forgiveness will remain out of reach, but who decides that?" Her companion looked over at the man again, narrowing her eyes. "I can see the man he killed, and his soul was darker than the one before us now- does that make this one terrible? Does it make him righteous? Why? Who decides such things? The other one didn't become a Demon, for even his soul wasn't entirely black, but he certainly won't be getting into Heaven. Were the tables turned, who knows? Perhaps he'd have earned his horns this go around, so should we not give this man the same credit handed to an Angel who banishes a Demon?" She shook her head. "A pointless exercise, really. Mortals have their flaws- they're allowed to, celebrated for it, even- but are we truly so vain to believe we're cut from different cloth? If a man can sin, so can an Angel; if he can be virtuous, why not a Demon?" She picked up her coffee cup for another sip. "And if we can be sinful and virtuous when the edicts say we shouldn't... perhaps we shouldn't hold ourselves to such outdated standards in the first place. Not one of us- mortal, Demon, or Angel- is pre-determined to do anything except make a choice when presented with one. I chose to escape Hell, he chose to kill a man, and you chose to rebel against the higher orders of Heaven. We could've all made the other choice, but we didn't, so now, here we are." Her lips curled into a smile. "I'm fighting to break the chains binding me to Hell, you're banishing Demons to earn your way back into Heaven, and him? He's going back to the town he killed that man in to turn himself over to the authorities."

Amber eyes glanced back at the man, her brows furrowing. "I find it difficult to believe he's doing it for penance."

"Hardly; he needs medical care, and the state will pay for his surgeries if he's an inmate." The Demon shrugged. "You see, sometimes, the word sin truly encapsulates the actions and motivations... and sometimes, it only does one or the other. So which, I wonder, is actually the thing that distinguishes between Heaven and Hell?"

"They do say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions," Blake pointed out, earning a chuckle from her companion that brought a small smile to her lips.

"Well, mystery solved, then." Blue eyes sparkled with mirth. "You formerly did the wrong thing for the wrong reason. Now, you're doing a righteous thing, but why?"

"To undo the damage I've done." Her expression fell, a dark thought that had lingered at the back of her mind for months returning to the forefront. "I fear Adam will try an assault on Heaven, if he makes a pact with the Devil himself. I want to be there to stop him if he does. I... I should be the one to stop him."

"A righteous act, then, with a righteous reason." She tilted her head. "I suppose that's rather Angelically virtuous of you, now isn't it? Personally, I'd let the higher orders handle it themselves; they're the ones who kicked him out of Heaven instead of relegating him to the moon or something."

Blake couldn't help but laugh at that, shaking her head at the very thought. An Angel on the moon. Ridiculous.

Still, she could see the truth in the Demon's words. Surprisingly, she'd yet to be discouraged from anything she'd done- at least, things that she felt compelled to do as a Fallen Angel, like give chase to purse snatchers and help others when possible- and it seemed as if the Demon didn't mind helping out on occasion. She didn't indulge in every good deed but she didn't hinder Blake in the slightest, which was more than she could say she expected of Weiss at the onset of their acquaintanceship. "Thanks. You're quite the wordsmith yourself."

"Quantity shouldn't be mistaken for quality, but thank you." Weiss returned to the remnants of her coffee as they sat in silence. A minute passed before the tab was set on their table- less than ten dollars total. When it came time to leave, the Demon left a twenty dollar bill and didn't wait for the change.