Who’s Vetting This Damned Mess?

Here’s how vetting works: Unbiased authorities carefully examine the basis of claims and issue a verdict of accurate, unlikely, or bullshit to help average citizens determine what to believe. When we decide not to trust credentialed authorities, we are prone to mistake our opinions for facts and our personal beliefs for reality.

But there’s a painful tension between belief and reality. Believing a falsehood doesn’t make it true. Or does it? The placebo effect is powerful. Maybe it’s possible to believe lies into reality.

“Excuse me,” God says.  “Could you give us a minute?”

My ancestors, friends, and readers slip out of the conference room in my head and quietly shut the door. I’m alone with an edgy God.

“Now listen,” God says. “Blind faith is dangerous. Some people think there is such a thing as ‘the word of God.’ Maybe. Maybe not. But I am not the Great Vetter in the Sky. You’ve got to vet things yourselves.  It’s relatively simple…”

I hold up my hand. “Let me stop you right there. Nothing is simple or straightforward about seeking the truth, and you know it.”

“You have education, language, and history,” God says.

I frown. “Yeah, right. And there are people who deliberately teach lies.”

 “But you have scientific methodologies,” God says.

I glare. “And we have science deniers. There are billions who don’t believe in the existence of germs and think carbon dating is from the devil.”

“Well, good grief. You have common sense,” God says.

I shake my head. “Nah. We believe that which is convenient or matches our needs or leanings. Con artists do quite well politically and financially.”

“But you’ve got eyes and ears and beating hearts,” God says in a firm and final voice.

 He packs his briefcase. I stand at attention, eyes wide open, hand over heart while the honor guard of God marches by.

Then I pull my hand down and stare at it. What, exactly, was I saluting? My feet take me to the garden. My eyes behold the dry brown hills and smoke-filled skies. I dig into the honest dirt and listen for the pulse of reality, raw and unhindered.

Bullshit breaks down and fertilizes tender green things. What goes around comes around. It is the earth itself who will do the final vetting.

“Sorry I was so harsh. We are helping where we can,” the Creator whispers from a sad, small space under the chokecherries.

“I know, Precious,” I whisper back to the Bleeding Heart of the Universe. “Of that, I am sure.”