[Image description: A Twitter thread by Nome (@/NomeDaBarbarian) that reads as follows:
Had a piece of microfiction burning a hole in my brain for a few days.
"So why do bad things happen to good people?"
The god sighed. "You don't want the answer to that."
"Well, the baseline is... as above, so below."
"At certain points, belief has a quality like... like momentum, or inertia. The faith that exists now isn't much at all like it was when I began. Different things matter to believers, and different things move them."
He waved his hand. "I was an Ancient Near Eastern war God.
"The Lord of Hosts doesn't mean I'm in charge of restaurant staff, after all. I was good at that, you know? I killed Tehom, used her body to make the continents. After that, it was just the occasional fight against Ba'al or Marduk. That was in my wheelhouse. I could handle that.
"But then folks started saying I had power outside my soil. That I was actually The Most High - Christ, El Elyon was pissed when he heard about that."
... you say 'Christ' as an invective?"
"The irony isn't lost on me, chief."
"But what does that have to do w-"
"With 'as above, so below'? I'm getting to it, don't worry."
He sipped from the cup in front of him.
"Belief is a tricky thing. Folks started believing different things about me. Omnipotence. Omnipresence. Omniscience. Eventually...
"Well, eventually, it becomes part of the job description. Suddenly a minor war God from rural Mesopotamia gets promoted to Most High, old allies and enemies get demoted to Angels - that makes for some awkward Christmas parties, by the way - and everything changes."
"What people believe about you... changes you?"
"Including when they believe you're unchanging, yes. Don't think about that one too long, you'll get a nosebleed. Just accept that there's no obligation for reality to be realistic, or logical, or self-consistent."
"That's... surprisingly easy for me to accept. All things considered."
"Yeah, you're from... 2022, right? That's a good year for realizing nothing that you thought was stable is based on anything firm."
"Yeah. Yeah. That's... yeah."
"But that brings me back to your question."
"To answer it, l've got to ask you - define a good person."
He paused for a second. "Someone who... helps people? Someone who takes accountability for their actions. Who doesn't hurt other people, who cares about the world, wants to make it better?"
"That's good. A bit vague.
"When I started, a good person obeyed the laws of hospitality, made burnt offerings, and respected property rights. People who did that, within the very specific physical boundaries I was responsible for? I could do my best to stop bad things from happening to them."
He looked wistful for a moment - and more than a little sad.
"There's a town in South Carolina. It's got two First Baptist churches, across the street from each other. A legacy of segregation - one used to be the white church, one the Black. Both are integrated now.
"Both congregations believe that everyone else in the world, up to and including the other church across the street, is wrong, deceived by Satan, and dammed to hell for their wickedness. That they alone are My Elect."
He made a broad 'what can you do?' gesture with his hands.
"I started as a war God. l've seen a lot, you know? Done plenty of terrible things, myself. But..." he shook his head.
"When you're responsible for so much, the scales can't balance. It's literally impossible for me to be on both sides of a war, for instance - but I have been.
"It is not possible for me to decide to fix that, because - as above, so below. I am what you, writ large, believe I am. You believe - not you, personally, but all of you.. I swear, English never should have abandoned "thou." Anyway." He made a wiping-away motion with one hand.
"You believe that some people must suffer. That it is somehow natural for some people to starve, or to waste away, or to freeze or boil. That a certain vague number of people are acceptable losses."
"And that I am the enforcer of that.
"That I will, with my perfect knowledge, winnow out the deserving and protect them from harm. For a thousand different and mutually exclusive definitions of deserving. Come down to it, like so many problems, it's a problem of scale."
"So it's just... hopeless?"
The smile that came to his face then was a comfortable one. Well-worn.
"No. No. Not hopeless. It's just broken. Things break, sometimes."
"... so how does it get fixed?"
Genuine warmth in that smile, now.
"I know it doesn't help you sleep at night, but I honestly love that about you. I love that your first instinct with a broken thing is to try to fix it."
He leaned forward, taking the man's hands in his own.
"You - all of you - have the power. You have something that I don't - a choice.
"If you choose to believe that suffering is natural, it will be. If you choose to believe that the world is harsh, it will be. But on the other hand...
"If you wish, you can reject that premise. You can choose not to accept hunger, illness, poverty, deprivation. You can choose for the world to be a place without suffering. And because you are the ones with that power, it will matter that you've chosen that."
"We can't even agree on the basic facts of what's already happened, how can we possible all choose a future like that?"
The God lifted a hand to the man's cheek.
"If it makes a difference, I believe in you. I don't know how - but l've got Faith."
"That's... comforting. But I don't know if that's useful advice."
"You didn't ask for useful advice. You asked why bad things happened to good people."
The God let his hands drop, and grinned. "As far as useful? Next time, look both ways."
His eyes jerked open, taking in the sight of the paramedic - and over her shoulder, the driver, tears streaming down his face.
"You have a terrible sense of humor," he rasped.