Lust and Soullessness.

I had an epiphany earlier today, and I realized exactly what lust is. For a very long time, I thought "lust" was just a healthy sexual appetite that was being handled inappropriately. I mean, I knew that lusting after women was sinful, and I didn't disagree with that, but I didn't realize the true nature of lust. I thought it was simply "adultery in the mind", as Jesus phrased it. It's not just infidelity, it's more vile than that.

People have souls. Minds. Lives. Despite what Darwin's disciples tell us, people are not just walking meatbags. There is more to a person than simply cells of various kinds. Theologically speaking, every person has a soul, a mind, and a body. Not just a body and a mind, as the atheists say, nor just a soul as the fans of Plato say, but all three, existing at the same time.

When one lusts after a person, one is desiring to possess that other person's body. But that possession requires the destruction of that person's soul, and the replacement of that soul with one that is amenable to fornication. It's not just "Man, I really want to get that girl in bed," it's actually "I want to alter who that person is, to erase that which makes them unique, and change it so that that girl ends up in my bed."

It's not a desire for a healthy sexual relationship with a person, it's a desire for the destruction of that other person's self. When a person lusts after another person, one is desiring their body, stripped of the soul. Stripped of their personhood, so that what's left is a willing body.

That's not just being unfaithful to God's commandments, and/or to our spouses (if we're married), it's being hateful towards all that makes that other person an actual person. It's not just indulging in the physical pleasures of sex, it's dehumanizing the other person. 

Which explains why porn is so vile and corruptive, really. Porn exists in antithesis to celebrating people as people, instead it's committed to reducing people to merely bodies with sexual instincts, devoid of both personhood and mind. Far from rationality, porn promotes the idea that other people should be treated as merely bodies to be used for pleasure, and unrealistic pleasure at that.

If people really have souls and minds, and minds, then sex isn't just two bodies bumping together, it's two minds and two souls coming together. It's not merely physical and sensational, it's mental and spiritual as well. Which isn't an idea that one will see being promoted by the world, of course. Society seems fairly committed to convincing people to disregard their souls, and to discard rationality as well, in an endless pursuit of the pleasures of the here and now.

But people do have souls, they do have minds, and thus should be treated as such. Far from being just a biological bedwarmer, that girl or that guy has a mind that is rational, and a soul that is dearly loved by God.

I Was Wrong

Social Distortion, a band I'm a big fan of, has a song titled "I Was Wrong." It's written from the perspective of a man who's made some mistakes. People tried to warn him that he was wrong, but he didn't listen, and later in life, he's admitting his mistakes. Put another way, it's a song about repentance.

I'm a big fan of repentance, and being wrong. The way I see it, if I can't admit that I'm wrong, then I'll never make improvements to my life. It's a fundamental part of learning that as we learn, we discard things that don't work and flawed ideas, continually improving our methods as we learn more. Sometimes the old way is valid, there's just a better way, and sometimes the old way is ineffective or dangerous.

Since I'm an aviation mechanic, the obvious analogy is that while aviation started with the Wright Flyer, now we have airplanes that are faster, safer, bigger, and more reliable. Did you know that the reason airplane windows are round at the corners instead of square is that square corners builds up stress, and that leads to catastrophic structural failures during flight?

We learned that after a couple planes crashed, and people got killed. Instead of trying it again, the entire aviation world said "Well, we're not going to do that again, we were wrong, and so now we're going to do it better."

It's a basic part of science, too. Theories are posited, experiments are run, and experiments that fail are taken as proof that the theories behind them were wrong. Experiments that work prove that the theories behind them are sound, and that's part of learning, too. That's how we were able to build the SR-71, coolest airplane ever.

The concept is universal, although one cannot always say it's always applied. Most fields of study are always evolving, and the experts in them are (or should be) always refining their knowledge so that they can do a better job. God only knows what's up with politicians, I guess they focus on improving their chances of getting elected instead of leading countries. 

It's a simple thing to look at the results one is getting and make some basic observations about the theories that were being tried.

I'm not a big fan of communism, because the results seem to be economic stagnation (USSR, DPRK, Cuba) along with an unimaginable body count (USSR, PRC). That experiment has been tried several times, it never really pans out.

I'm not a big fan of methamphetamine for the same reason. I've seen enough of the results of the use of that drug that I'm not only not going to try it, I'll try to keep others from trying it.

The same thing goes for thousands of other things. Running on hot pavement barefoot, driving drunk, trying to pick up chicks while covered in vomit, etc, etc, etc. Any thinking person in this world is constantly seeing what works, and what doesn't work, and changing how they act in response to this process. It's called improving.

And it requires us to be wrong. Not only that, it requires us to exist in a state where we realize that we're only acting based on our best knowledge and reason of how to do things, and that we may currently be wrong. To know, right now, that everything we base our lives on may be false, and that we might learn of that tomorrow.

It requires humility, and repentance.

Small wonder, then, that this concept shows up in Christianity from time to time. Not only repentance, which is absolutely central to Christianity, but judging things based on the results (Matthew 7:15-23), instead of the marketing.

As I study the Bible, and as I attempt to apply all of its teachings to all of my life, I should be constantly refining not only my knowledge of Christianity, but how I practice it. Some things work, some things don't. Some things sound good and don't work, some things sound absurd, yet work quite well.

Once upon a time, I thought being polite was a waste of time. I was wrong.

I used to use porn, and didn't see anything wrong with it. I was wrong.

I used to be angry all the time, and blamed the world for everything. I was wrong.

I used to ignore what Christ had to say. I was wrong.

I used to never listen to Christian music, I didn't see a point. I was wrong.

I used to lie, manipulate, cheat, and steal. I was wrong.

I used to argue with teachers. I was wrong.

I used to shoot pistols using a teacup grip. I was wrong.

I used to refuse to take medication to treat my bipolar diagnosis. I was wrong.

The list goes on, and will keep growing as I mature, as I learn more, as I refine how I do things based on what bears good fruit, and what doesn't.

Seven months ago, I realized that I was wrong about being a Protestant. I admitted that I was wrong, and started the process of being an Orthodox Christian.

"I was wrong" is not an arrogant statement. I'm not arrogant because I believe the Protestant Reformation was a mistake, anymore than I'm arrogant for believing that square windows in airliners are a mistake, or that porn or drug usage is a mistake. Mistakes are made all the time, admitting them is an act of humility.

I was wrong.

So if you're holding an opinion I used to hold, but now believe to be wrong, then logically, I'm going to think you're wrong. That doesn't make me arrogant either, I used to hold the same opinion, and was making the same mistake. I'm not looking down on you for being wrong, I'm trying to correct the same mistake I used to make. I may be five yards ahead of you on life's trail *for that particular lesson*, but I'm not better than you.

I was doing the same damn thing, and I was wrong.

Being "better" than you would mean that I was never wrong.

And I'm not Jesus Christ. I was wrong, He was not.

A dramatization in the style of Lovecraft (hopefully)

I saw the "No Guns Allowed" sign, but didn't care. I had a license to carry, and no pot-smoking hippy was going to put up a sign and keep me out. I opened the door, and walked inside. Enemy territory. Would they know? What would happen if they saw that most hated of tools, the bringer of death to this world, The Gun?

"Hello!" One of the hippies said cheerfully, unaware of the horror that had just walked into their presence.

"Good morning" I replied, knowing that this was anything but. This was a morning that would cause screams that would echo through time, screams normally reserved for Elder Things.

I walked over to the wall of DVDs. They were alphabetical, and not sub-divided by type or genre. Typical of hippies to know only one way of organizing things. I'd stopped by the shop to find a rock documentary, but it wasn't there. Probably too loud and angry for the store owners to handle.

A dilemma presented itself. I could stop by the music selection, I'd been looking for a certain Collective Soul album, but one of Them was there, and they might not have it, either. I could destroy this man's sanity by my very presence, and yet it might be a waste of my time. Perhaps I should leave immediately?

I decided to risk it. This lesser creature was not worth worrying about, and could easily be replaced.

I sauntered over to the bins and found that these, too, were only sorted alphabetically. The store's selection was actually decent, and I grabbed several other albums that I had been looking for.

"Have you found what you're looking for?"

I glanced over at the hippy that had spoken to me, and he suddenly appeared to be sweating slightly. He tugged at the already-loose collar of his polo as I politely responded "Yes, thank you."

Realizing I had a limited budget, I walked past the man towards the front of the store. I heard him collapse behind me, giggled gibberish pouring from his mouth. The overwhelming horror of The Gun had taken his sanity by sheer proximity, even without him being directly aware of its presence.

I made eye contact with the hippie that appeared to be the manager, and indicated with a nod that I needed to pay for my goods. He directed his remaining subordinate to the till, then began clawing his eyes out, whispering formless words of horror at what he had just seen.

I glanced down, but my heavy jacket was still concealing The Gun. I wondered what he had seen, clearly simply being a Bearded Man could not cause that kind of reaction, but shook off such idle thoughts as I approached the register. I had more important things to do than ponder the inner workings of the hippie mind.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" the cashier shrieked as he began biting his own lip off.

"Yes, thank you."

"Would you like a bag for this?" He shrieked again, I barely avoided the spatter of blood that came with this question, his lips were tattered, and he now appeared to be chewing on his tongue.

He held out the receipt to me, but I declined, not wanting to risk contaminated hippie blood in my car. Suppressing a smile, I walked to the front door and paused to put my sunglasses on, which gave the now-eyeless manager time to cheerfully giggled out the words "Have a nice day!"

"You too, sir" I replied, knowing that the rest of his life would be marked by nightmares of this day. I pushed the door open, smiled at the sunlight that streamed in, and left the store.

******

Author's note: This was written entirely as a writing exercise (because H. P. Lovecraft is the man), dramatizing a completely normal trip to a record store. No hippies were hurt in the making of this story, nor during the actual events that took place.

The moral of the story is that those signs are pointless, and stop absolutely nothing from happening. I'm a nice guy, and that sign might as well have said "no germs allowed" for all the actual effect it had on me. Guns go wherever the people who carry them want to take them, and as long as people are willing to walk past the signs, the signs don't matter.

Leaving Protestantism Part 1:

I was sitting in a basement-turned-coffee shop, where a Sunday evening church service was being held. I was there that Sunday because a friend of mine invited me to attend, saying (quite correctly, I might add) that there were several very beautiful women there who were solidly of the Christian persuasion. I'm not exactly a complicated guy. Christian women aren't generally found in bars on Friday night, so if I'm going to find a lady to marry, I should probably look for her in a church.

The pastor was the epitome of the "relevant, seeker-sensitive" type. Denim shirt, one too many buttons unbuttoned to be business casual, stating that he's not a traditional pastor, so he can be approached. Same with the week's growth of beard. The carefully unkempt hair. That affably friendly demeanor, the affinity for Apple products, the discerning taste in coffee. The tattoos that speak of slight edginess, just enough to say "I know what you've been through".

I looked around, and I saw people I'd known at other churches, some of them 15 years earlier. I'd gotten to know some of the church members, they were mostly transplants from one church or another. There were a few converts, but the vast majority that I talked with were folks who'd "stopped being fed" by their old churches, and left them for greener pastures.

I felt kinda sick when I realized that this is Protestantism everywhere I go. I was a member of a United Methodist Church when I was in Tulsa, but then I moved to Idaho, and I went back to the church I attended while there. That church was almost all transplants, too. So was the proto-megachurch I attended for a few months before I went to college.

I was living in a world of church hopping transplants. That's what Protestants did, I realized. We attended a church because the pastor was cool, or because the music was good, but sooner or later the love affair cooled off, and we moved on. We had better excuses than that, of course, but that's what it was.

It was all about us. That's not how I saw it at the time, of course, all the years I was a part of it. No way, man, I was trying to find the pure church, the one where the pastor was doctrinally sound, the music was good, and the people were friendly. I attended four churches in 17 years in Idaho.

I left one because it started to preach Prosperity Gospel heresy, and I got so sick of the ensuing bullshit that I walked away from the faith for a few years.

I left the second because there was a persistent rumor that the third had a nice collection of singles. Like I said, I'm not exactly complicated.

The third was a good church. I left it, though, because after a while I wanted something new. Got tired of the old, didn't feel like I was getting much out of it.

The fourth I left when I left town to go to college. I guess that's actually a good reason.

But still, I church-hopped. Worse, I made a sport of church criticism. Because in the end, it was about me, and what I wanted. What I wanted out of a church was the main thing. What I thought correct doctrine was. What I thought were good songs. What I thought church folk should act like. And whether or not other people measured up to my standards.

Me, me, me. I, I, I.

Because that, ultimately, is what Protestantism is. It's foundational, really. We're taught early on that the Bible is the supreme authority on every matter of Doctrine. Sola Scriptura, and because Scripture alone is the final authority, it's up to each of us to make sure that our interpretation of it is perfect. Whenever one of us has a disagreement, we turn to Scripture to solve it, and it should be the end of the matter.

What really happens, though, is that my interpretation is more accurate, more Spirit-guided, more Bible-based than yours. So I'm going my way, and you can go yours. We have a schism, and we go our separate ways. Then another few years down the road, I get into another doctrinal debate, there's another question that we go to the Bible to answer, and if and when we don't agree with each other, we have another schism.

It's been estimated that there are around 33,000 denominations of Protestantism. Think about that for a second. That means that 33,000 times the Bible was raised up as the ultimate authority in our lives, and the end result was a fracturing of the family, not reconciliation and peace. Just schisms, sunderings, and rebellions. Protests. Something like 1.7 times per week since Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the door of a Catholic Church.

It's all we do. We get along for a while, then we leave. We Protest. We decide that *we* are the authority. *I* decide that *I* am the authority, really. "We" only comes into the picture as long as you and I agree, otherwise I go where I believe I should go, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.

Sola Scriptura becomes Solo Scriptura. Me Scriptura.

Look where this brought us, what the Fruits of the Tree of Sola Scriptura have brought us: Rates of divorce that are utterly indistinguishable from the secular world. Heresy abounds. Doctrine is downplayed or simply not taught (which is "rebranded" these days as "Focusing on Christ and Him crucified) so that we don't offend anyone or make them feel excluded. Lines in the sand are wiped away, because it's politically incorrect to stand opposed to things based on religious principles these days. Alcoholism is far too common. Drug abuse isn't unheard of, and I don't mean the newcomer that stands in the back, but in pastors and regular attenders. Pornography use is so common that it's rare to hear a man say that they've never used it.

And in every church, people hide their sins behind masks of perfection, of godliness, too afraid of the criticism of their fellow man to actually come before God in humility and deal with the very problems that destroy their lives.

It was actually a question if one of the churches I used to attend, denomination-wide (which means millions of people), would officially change their stance on homosexuality. And I mean it was serious enough that the pastor made a semi-official statement that if the bishops changed the official stance of the denomination, he'd leave. 

Why was it even brought up? Was it because the Bible we unanimously declare to be the final authority changed, because the words moved around on the page on every Bible ever written? No, because the politics don't favor it anymore. Far from standing on Scripture Alone, these days we don't stand on, for, or against anything.

Roughly a year ago, I ran across a question that I couldn't answer at the time: "If the road you followed brought you here, was it the right road?"

The more I look at not only my life, which is alternately a mild success and a flaming train wreck, but at the state of the Protestant Church as a whole, the more I realize that no, we're not on the right road. The last 460 years have been a disaster, and the Reformation, while it sounds like a good idea, isn't working out.

For all the newness, for all the "innovation" we crammed into our services, for all the projectors we displayed sermon notes on, for all the low-cost warehouses we converted into megachurches, for all the debates we've had over doctrine, for all the colleges we've built to teach theology, for all the tactics we've tried to reach the unreached, for all the changes we've made, for all the problematic things we've reformed, the wheel that the Protestants keep trying to reinvent is nowhere near as structurally sound as the original.

I guess it looks cool, though. It's hip, we use Apple products and digital projectors. Out pastors have tattoos. I suppose that counts for something to someone. Not to me, I couldn't give a shit. I don't go to a church because it's cool, it has to have sound teaching (and hopefully single ladies.)

So, about three months ago, I decided to join the Orthodox Church. Because while the Protestant church has become an ever-changing and spineless wreck, the Orthodox Church doesn't change.

Worship styles at my last church changed every three to five years. The Divine Liturgy, which is celebrated (if that's the word) every Sunday morning at every Orthodox Church in the entire world, hasn't changed in roughly 1700 years, and St. John Chrysostum, who wrote the Divine Liturgy, based it largely on the Liturgy of St. James, who was the brother of Christ. It's as original, as pure, as any church service could ever be.

The doctrine at the Methodist church I used to attend was roughly 250 years old, and was an offshoot from the Arminian movement (early 1600s), which was a reaction to the Reformation, which happened in 1547, which was a reaction to the excesses and corruption in the Roman Catholic Church, which broke off from the Orthodox Church in 1054. The Orthodox Church, in contrast, has never changed.

If the Protestant Reformation has taught me anything, it's that what works should be kept, and what doesn't work should be discarded. Chew the meat, spit out the bones. Well, I'm spitting out Sola Scriptura, and I'm keeping the Bible. I'm spitting out fads, and I'm keeping Tradition. I'm spitting out the Me-centered church service with flashy lights, rock guitars, and stylish young worship leaders, and I'm keeping the Divine Liturgy.

Because it's all about me, and I've been on the wrong road for thirty years.

**********

I feel like noting that the above is a lot of "Why?" with very little "How?". The how is actually fairly simple: I have a friend that's Greek Orthodox, and we've gotten into multiple debates over the past three or so years about Orthodoxy and Protestantism. I'm a pretty solid debater, or so I like to think, and while I can score points on the guy on other subjects, when it came to Orthodoxy he never lost a point, ever. After a while, it came down to making excuses for why I wasn't joining the Orthodox Church. While I didn't understand the "Why?" of a great number of things the Orthodox Church does, it was clear that his kung fu was stronger than mine.

Then a blogger (Arctic Pilgrim, if you ever read this, email me!) whose blog I regularly read (It has since been taken down. Tragic.) started a series on questions he had about Protestantism, and his posts greatly, greatly clarified the issues and questions I had with Protestantism. Most of what I wrote above his blog helped clarify for me, since before he started talking about the "fruits of Protestantism" my thoughts on the matter came down to a much less structured "The other guy wins debates, and has done it enough times that I know he's right, although I don't understand why".

Then, like I related above, I ended up in a coffee shop, and had a moment of clarity. One of the few things I'll brag about is that I don't shy away from owning up to the reality of a situation, and the reality was that I just couldn't do Protestantism any longer. I knew it was bullshit, and even if I didn't then (and indeed, don't currently) understand all of Orthodoxy, what I do know is that the Orthodox Church has a much more legitimate claim to authority than any Protestant could hope to have.

Once I realized that, it was just a matter of manning up and making the change, which I am in the process of. I started with doing daily liturgical prayers while I was in Lesotho, and started attending an Orthodox church as soon as I returned to the US, as to my knowledge there is not an Orthodox church in Lesotho.