Benefits of Classless Education

One of the side benefits of having seen a lot of action movies is that I've got a wealth of one-line quotes memorized. I don't know what it is about action movies that requires the hero and/or the supporting characters to have one-liners for every situation, but it's an old tradition, and I like it.

For this quote, the heroine (a law enforcement commando-type) has just shot her way out of a drug bust gone wrong, and she's smoking a cigarette on a dock, waiting for the rest of the department to clean up the mess. Her boss sits down next to her, and after a short back-and-forth, says "You're so full of piss and vinegar that if you keep going the way you're going, you run the risk of becoming one seriously fucked-up individual."

The line has stuck with me ever since I first saw the movie. It's a good line. She's the type that responds to every challenge with an even higher level of intensity, even the ones that should be solved with smooth words and diplomacy. So while she's very good at shooting her way out of drug busts gone bad, she's slowly becoming a very, very damaged individual, and eventually she'll be dangerous to everyone around her.

That quote might as well have been delivered to me.

It's been nearly four years since God tapped me on the shoulder and directed me into missions. I still think it's a good career path for me, I've never really been one to chase satisfaction in the form of a big paycheck, but I realize now that I've been going about it the wrong way.

When I first told my family about it, they said I'd fail to make it through school. I've never asked why they said that, it hurt too much at the time to consider their warnings rationally, so I just upped my intensity and kept going forward. My pastor said the same thing, but instead of asking why, I responded by being more intense, and running at higher speeds.

By the time I got to that school, I had a pretty massive chip on my shoulder, and I was there to conquer my major, not simply study hard. I was going to do everything really, really hard, because nobody was going to make me quit. While this had benefits (I had every single assignment done 24 hours before the due date except for a group project), it also had some predictable and bad results, and in the end I cracked and ended up in the hospital on suicide watch.

That definitely served as a wakeup call, but at the time I didn't realize all of the problem. Granted, I'll never try being unmedicated again, but what I really should have learned was to slow down and not be so intense all the time. But I didn't, and I kept charging forward towards being a missionary.

Granted, that was the right move, but it's not just about having a list of credentials, it's about having a certain personality. One has to be able to deal with any situation that comes up, and in the appropriate manner. Some situations require delicacy, some intensity, and others probably other things.

I've pretty much only had one response to any challenge that's come up in the last decade: Intensity. While this really helps when the challenge is a construction job in Haiti, it's really, really unhelpful when the challenge is waiting for several weeks to finally be assigned to a program for my internship.

I am not good at waiting, nor am I good with uncertainty, because neither of those can be dealt with by simply working harder, which is the only way I ever do anything, but being a missionary in third-world countries is going to require a LOT of waiting and dealing with a LOT of uncertainty. That isn't going to change, so I need to if I want to have a chance in this field.

Operation Chill Out is going to be tough. I have literally no idea how to chill out, it's not something I ever try to do. I can be calm, but I'm always in motion, either mentally or physically. I tend to stop only when I'm exhausted, not when I'm relaxed. I have no idea how to relax, I never really saw the point. Why would anyone want to relax when they could be getting things done?

But if I keep going the way I'm going, I'm going to end up a seriously fucked-up individual, and I realize that now. Time to make changes.

Truth, and variations thereof

I'm going to talk about Truth for a bit. It seems that the concept has gotten a bid muddled lately, so I want to explain some things. I figure I'll start with the dictionary definition of "True":

True[troo]adjective
1.
being in accordance with the actual state or conditions; conforming to reality or fact; not false: a true story.

Philosophically speaking, there are three kinds of "Truth" with which we are concerned: Absolute Truth, Relative Truth, and Subjective Truth. Absolute Truth is truth that is always true. Relative Truths are things that are true for you, but not true for me. Subjective Truths are things that are always true, but mean different things to different people.

It sounds confusing, right?

Yeah, it confuses me too sometimes. I'll use a an analogy to try to break it down. Imagine, if you will, a garage door. Garage doors roll up and down, and well, you know what a garage door is. Open the garage door you're thinking about to halfway.

Now, what's true about our theoretical door? Well, Objectively, it's there, it's not closed, and it's open to about six feet from the ground. Those could be defined as Absolute Statements

Subjectively, things get interesting. Six feet might be enough for you to walk under, but if I try to walk out, I'm gonna smash my nose on it. So while it's objectively true that the door is open, subjectively it means different things to different people. A short man will be able to walk out, I will have to duck.

Now, continuing our analogy, what would a Relative Truth be? Well, were I to say that walking out the door requires ducking, that's true for me, but false for a short man. It's an absolute statement to say that "all men must duck because I must duck", but it's false, because not all men must duck. 

The way to pick out Subjective Truth as opposed to Relativism is that Subjective Truths always refer back to an absolute, and are defined in relation to the subject. "The door is open six feet from the ground, a tall man must duck, while a short man does not."

Relativism doesn't define absolutes. It's not concerned with an absolute frame of reference, so instead of defining the precise height the door is opened, we'll just say that "it's open", and that "some folks have to duck."

You can see the effects of relativism everywhere in modern society. Instead of one man killing another always being wrong outside of a self-defense situation, just watch the news. People get killed, and suddenly it doesn't matter who attacked who, it's more important that one was poor and the other rich, or one was white and the other black.

The absolute statements, like "The law defines this act as justifiable homicide because it was self defense" get washed away, and suddenly it doesn't matter who swung first, because the relative issues, the ones that have no Absolute Truth to them are promoted as being important.

Things that are fundamentally required for the stability of society like law and order, right and wrong, and an accepted method of how things work are all being tossed aside because "muh feelings" trump "your rights." Society-wide, we are swimming in a putrid sea of Relativism, and it is going to drown us all. 

The Sales Pitch

So a while back, a friend on catastrophebook posted that "If you're Christian, you shouldn't be posting about how hard life is, about how you think it sucks, etc, because what will it make people who aren't Christian think?" Now, granted that's a really short paraphrase of what he had to say, but it boiled down to "We should make Christianity appealing to people, so they'll choose it."

This was like two months ago or something, but regardless, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It sounds so simple and true, on the face of it, so why am I bothered so relentlessly by it? It was a pretty convicting quote, do I bitch too much about my life, and all the things I struggle with?

Like all things theological, the best place to start is with the Bible itself. Matthew 10 has a lot to say about what's in store for Christians. So does Luke 14. They're...umm, they're not nice. We're going to be hated, hauled before the authorities, put on trial, face family troubles, and in a lot of ways, it's going to suck. Intensely. Paul had nothing resembling an easy life, neither did the rest of the Apostles.

So if we're just trying to say "If you choose Christ, your life will be easy!", we're still nowhere near correct as to what the Bible actually says. Yeah, life gets easy in a way, but just because the straight and narrow path is simpler doesn't mean that it's ever truly easy. The Christian life is a war against evil, both the evil in the world and the evil in us, and that war won't stop until we're dead.

But, that's not actually the issue I have with the post I saw two months ago.

See, what I've realized is that if we have to sell Christianity properly, then we've tacitly accepted that we're selling it based on how good it is compared to other options, not that it is the ONLY option.

I can't speak for other people, but I'm not a Christian because the benefits package is better than that of Islam. I'm not a Christian because it pays better than Hinduism, or because the girls are prettier than Mormonism. No, I'm a Christian because I believe it is true. I'm not a Muslim because I believe it to be false. Same with every other faith.

Every major faith in the world is mutually exclusive to all the others. One is true, the rest are false. A false religion is not "another option", it is a complete and total waste of everyone's time.

Because I believe Christianity is true, because I believe that Jesus Christ really did die for my sins, because I believe God exists, than to me it doesn't really matter what struggles I have or don't have in this world. It doesn't matter if I end up being Job #2, or if God decides to bless me with a beautiful wife and a dozen kids. It doesn't matter if I'm going to spend the rest of my life broke, of if I'll be wealthy.

None of that matters, because I didn't choose Christianity out of the crowd just because some dude pitched it just right and convinced me that I should give it a shot. I'm a Christian because I believe it to be true, and The Philosophical Requirements of an Extant Deity demand certain things.

So, then, what should we do?

Well, maybe we should START by acting like it's true, and not simply one option among many. Let's start tomorrow by living the most authentic, Christ-centered life we possibly can. Let's not hide our struggles, but instead say "Yes, I'm struggling mightily with X or Y or Z, but in Christ I will prevail."

I certainly don't mean this to brag, but a few people have said my life inspires them. I'm guessing they're not talking about the time I got thrown into a psych ward, or the times I've been homeless. I'm pretty sure they're not talking about being single and lonely, or struggling to cope with being manic-depressive.

What they might be talking about is that no matter how badly I get my ass kicked by life, God picks me up, dusts me off, and says "Well, I hope you learned something, my child. Now, try again, and stay close to Me." Because by this time, the things I've survived inspire me, so it figures that they might inspire others as well.

So my non-Christian friends, who also struggle mightily with life, what do I want them to see? I want them to see that I struggle, that I fail, that I come up short, because it's in those moments when God lifts me up out of the muck and mire, and redeems my failures. It's not my life that I want them to see, it's God working in it.

I can't talk to people about how God has beautifully, miraculously, and graciously worked in my life without discussing the times I have utterly fucked it up. Those are the moments I cherish, albeit after the fact, because I can now point to God and say "When I was at my lowest, when all my efforts brought ruin, when all hope was gone, God stepped in and turned everything around...again. I'm a moron, God is awesome!"

My goal in life is to bring Glory to God, not to make God sound like a better option than Thor. I talk about my weaknesses, my failures, and my utter lack of being able to handle my own life because, like Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:9, Christ's power is made perfect in our weakness, not our success, strengths, and triumphs.

Tested to Self-Destruction

One of the axioms I live by is that I'm "Tested to Self-Destruction since 1983". It's not a particularly theological phrase, but it's very, very central to how I life, so I figured I'd write about it.

In many types of engineering, planned buildings, cars, and other structures are modeled and then tested to destruction. Destructive testing allows the engineers to say "OK, we know for a fact that the bridge will fail when there are 600 tons on it, so we will set the max load at 450 tons and allow a 150 ton safety margin."

Not destructively testing the design would mean they could only estimate the design's max load, and would have no way of knowing what's actually safe, or even where the weakest part of the structure is. Computer modeling is nice, but nothing beats a full-scale test. Destructive testing allows the engineers to create stronger, safer bridges by identifying and fixing weak spots.

People are, I believe, similar in a way. Everyone has a breaking point, but most people (I believe) never try to find it, and certainly never by choice. Given the option between sitting on a couch or trying to find out exactly how far one can run, most people these days would choose to sit on the couch. However, someone who decides that before breakfast, they're going to walk outside and run until they simply can't run another step will learn something about themselves that they didn't know.

It might be that they've got bad running shoes, or it might be that they need to eat better. It might be that they thought they could run a mile and only ran a half-mile. Maybe they ran five. Pushing until they hit the absolute limit of their ability to run will not only show them their limit, it will make them stronger and show their weaknesses, and if they so desire, allow them to address those weakness.

I am diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I have certain mental weaknesses that have often limited my ability to handle life, but I refuse to play it safe and sit on the couch, either literally or metaphorically. So I take my meds as prescribed, then do everything I can to push the limits of what I can and can't handle. This has occasionally been destructive in my life.

I once went laser-tagging at the end of a 30-hour sleepless period, and messed up my hand bad enough that I couldn't use it well for a week, but despite that qualifying as destructive testing, I found out that the limit of how long I can stay up and be highly active was over 24 hours. 

The limit of how much depression I can handle without wanting to eat a bullet has also been pushed pretty far, and I've never attempted suicide. In 2011 I went through a depressive period so severe that I was barely functional (meaning I could barely feed myself, not "I could barely hold a job and go to school"), but I never wanted to kill myself, even though the idea was at times tempting.

I've also done purely-physical things to push my limits, with possibly-destructive results. I've done backpacking trips that were, by the end of the day's hike, a one-step-at-a-time affair, and I once did a 30-mile bicycle ride, so I know that if I need to, I could push my body pretty far. I've never found the absolute limit of my ability to carry a 50-lb ruck, some day I want to. Then a week later I'll walk further, just to push that limit.

The common thread in all of this is that it's generally me pushing me to work harder until I break down in one form or another. I won't for a second say that this is a safe and pleasant way to walk through life, but I have learned that the limit of how far I can push myself before I self-destruct is generally a ways further than I normally need to.

The result has always been that I get a little bit tougher. Every time muscles are exercised hard, they tear a bit, and the tears fill in with more muscle cells, growing stronger through damage. It's the same with everything else that gets pushed to the limit: Once the absolute limit is found, it can generally be pushed a little farther the next time one tries to find it. I know the limits of my depression, and how bad I can let it get before I need help. Same thing with mania.

There are things I cannot either physically or emotionally handle, and there always will be. Everyone has a breaking point, but one of the things I am sure of in this life is that if we are not afraid of occasionally breaking down, if we contintually strive to push our limits every time we come near them, then we will be tougher, stronger, smarter, and in every way more capable than if we sit on our couches in fear.

I've been tested to self-destruction since 1983, and I am better every year for it.

AAR: Black Lake, Idaho

The Plan:

Backpack from High Dive to Black Lake by the pictured route on 2 July, spend two days there camped at the mine, and return to High Dive on 5 July.

It was a pretty good plan.

The Reality:

We got off to a great start on 2 July, but accidentally went up the first draw, not the second. Thus, after roughly three hours of rucking uphill towards Black Lake (henceforth BL), we were greeted with the sight of Emerald Lake, not BL. This necessitated a ridgeline hike towards BL via Pyramid Peak, and a drop down a steep shale slope above the mine (East of Pyramid Peak) instead of the rock/grass/dirt slope that was to the west of Pyramid Peak. We left High Dive at roughly 1300, and arrived at BL at roughly 1800 (IIRC).

This was compounded by the lack of preparatory PT on the part of one of my party of three (Bravo). His failure to physically prepare for the trip not only slowed down the pace of the party (resulting in us being caught in a light rain), but led to him having increased trouble with the altitude change, and becoming physically ill.

Due to Bravo's illness, we left BL a day early on 4 July, backpacking from the BL mine where we were camped back out to High Dive via the BL road, which was passable on foot but not by car or truck. This went far faster, and it only took us 4-5 hours.

On the way out, we encountered several parties on 4-wheelers, who told us that there was barbecue and ice cream waiting for us at High Dive. Apparently, it is a local tradition to drive up the BL road on the 4th of July until snow is reached, then to barbecue and make home-made ice cream with the snow.

 Happy 4th of July!

What Went Wrong:

1. A lack of physical preparation for the hike. While everyone on the invite list had been told well in advance of the hike's length, altitude, and physical difficulty, we were still not fully prepared for the trip. Part of this is obviously due to the altitude change, I was living at ~650 feet before the trip, while the others were living at ~2200 feet, but in spite of that, we should have trained for the weight and distance of the actual hike better than we did.

2. We forgot hearing protection. Despite knowing in advance that we were going to be carrying and shooting guns the whole weekend, we forgot to bring earpro, and so we were basically stuck lugging heavy steel objects that none of us were entirely comfortable shooting, even after improvising earpro using spent casings and string.

The price of not being prepared.

Those work decently well, by the way.

3. In general, we overpacked or mispacked. While my food stock and ammo stock reflected the original plan of a 4-day hike (meaning food for 5 in case of injury or delay) full of shooting, I still noticed that I had duplicate items (bars of soap, knives). Bravo brought a 26-oz glass jar of peanut butter, while Alpha mentioned that he brought too much "snack" food. Additionally, my ground pad has outlived its usefulness, and is neither light nor especially pad-ish.

Dude, what? Why would you even bring that?

4. For sleep I utliized a "Ranger Taco" setup, meaning a poncho liner laced into a poncho, which is then snapped shut and entered fully clothed. This proved inadequate due to the wind off the snowpack, which had no trouble at all entering at either end of the taco.

The red mag was loaded with 77-grain Hornady BTHPs instead of M855s.

What Went Right:

1. Spirits remained relatively high for the entire trip, with nobody becoming grouchy or depressed despite heavy loads, long miles, and cold nights.

2. Nobody was injured, outside of minor scrapes, some blisters, and sunburns. Those don't count.

3. The cold nights aside, July is a much better time to visit Black Lake than August. The temperature at the lake was far more comfortable during the days, and there was nobody else around until the folks who came up for the 4th of July. This gave us free reign to build a fire, shoot guns, and generally just have fun without any worry than anyone else would be around to complain.

Lessons Learned:

1. Additional PT is required. My standard for PT marches a month before the trip was a 50-lb 5K ruck march in 45 minutes or less, which was entirely sufficient for the weight, but lacking for the distance. I should have been doing 10K or 10-mile marches. This would also have highlighted several chafing points that were revealed during the trip, and caused pain that didn't need to be there.

2. While my basic load (2K calories per day, 100-oz Camelback, single set of layered clothing) was acceptable , I need to reexamine each individual item for weight, and take care to avoid duplicates. Furthermore, I need to swap in snack food for some of the full meals, I had no real opportunity to eat while moving, and that cost me energy I needed later in the hikes. Upping the calories carried would be nice if weight permits.

2A. For cost reasons, I need to experiment with cheaper meals. Just-add-water pastas are available from bulk food stores, with some fortification like beans and meat they could replace dehydrated meals, which are expensive. I could also get by with a much smaller cookpot than the 8-quart one I had.

3. My rifle is an acceptable choice for a hiking gun, but I need to see if I can swap in a lighter forearm without excessive expense. A tilt-capable bipod would also be nice, but other than those items, it's more than accurate enough for what I ask it to do, and it functioned fine lubricated with aircraft motor oil. 

4. A "Ranger Taco" alone is insufficient for severe cold weather, or mild winds blowing off a snowpack. On both nights, the cold wind hitting my neck and feet made it hard to sleep, and I was shivering. I need to find a way to upgrade the system for colder weather, probably meaning a regular sleeping bag stuffed inside. 

5. Popping a couple heavy-duty (but non-narcotic) painkillers before a hike will make it easier. Having the aches and pains dulled in advance really helps as the miles stack up.

6. Choose who to invite on backpacking trips carefully. While I would reinvite either of the friends that I brought this time, not everyone on the original invite list would have been, and the intense physicality of the trip would have meant a lot of grumpiness if anyone had started complaining. It's one thing to go on ahead, drop my pack, and come back to help out someone who's just not physically up to the trip, it's quite another to deal with someone who's decided to start bitching about everything.

 The view is always worth the work it takes to get there.

Decisions, decisions.

I recently decided to pass on a job offer from Judah1, and to keep pursuing a career with the MAF. The Judah1 offer was better in every measurable way, and I really wanted to take it, but I passed on it anyways. I'm going attempt to explain why, because folks who watched me spend a month debating the decision are saying they're confused, and arguing with my decision.

Job A (Judah1) would have been the better choice, but I don't really like doing things without knowing why I'm doing them, so I kept asking myself "Why should I take this job? I've been pursuing a career with the MAF for three years now, why should I leave them and go with this new group?"

After a week or so of asking myself that question, I noticed that the intonation started to change. "Why should I take this job?" was an easy question to answer, but I realized the question had become "why should *I* take this job?" I mean yeah, the benefits are obviously, but why should I be the one to take the job?

I mean, let's assume that I'm perfectly capable of performing all the required duties of both jobs after training, and will do an excellent job either way. MAF would spend less on training me (and I'd be at an acceptable level of proficiency faster) than Judah1 would have to, and Judah1 could find a qualified mechanic (for the MD82 they wanted me to shepherd) here in Tulsa inside a week, probably inside 24 hours. American Airlines has been fixing MD80-series aircraft in this town for decades, after all. 

So, training-wise, I'll be up to speed faster, and for less organizational cost, if I go with MAF.

But Afghanistan is a hard place to work, you say.

Well, let's examine my history. I've struggled with depression for all of my life, so regardless of which way I'll go, I will still struggle with depression. Since part of my depression is rooted in the unending struggle against nihilism, one thing I am very cautious about is losing a grip on the things that keep me going. Foreign missions (and the inherent challenge in them) provide a much better reason to keep going than staying in Tulsa, and making a decision based on financial benefits means that I'd be placing money at the center of my life. Chasing money instead of something with a bigger-than-me purpose would seriously jeopardize my existential wellbeing, because temporal pleasures like money and fun are meaningless.

So, if we call the depression a toss-up (better support network but less meaning in Tulsa versus less support but more existentially meaningful work with the MAF), then I have no reason to stay in Tulsa.

I don't really care for the acquisition of stuff, so that's a wash. Having more money would be nice, but I've lived with only what I can fit in my car for almost three years now, so it's not like I have a desire to balloon that into needing a moving van. I plan on maintaining an ascetic lifestyle until I'm married or otherwise tied down to a single location.

So that's a toss-up as well. As long as I eat well and sleep inside, money isn't very important to me.

Hmm, what else?

Family? Alright, speaking plainly, I'm looking for a lady of a certain quality, and those are rare, no matter where I go. Also speaking plainly, I'll find her when God brings her into my life. Finding the right lady is no more likely here in Tulsa than it is in Afghanistan. She could just as easily be a nurse working with Doctors Without Borders as a schoolteacher here in Tulsa. The odds don't really change either way, rare is still rare, and I don't meet a lot of ladies here anyways.

Terrain? I'm from Cascadia, and proudly so. I love mountains, pine trees, and winter snow every bit as much as I do hot summer days and thunderstorms. Staying in Tulsa would mean never having a proper winter, whilst going with the MAF would mean being based in Cascadia and spending time in Afghanistan. Terrain-wise, MAF wins by miles, and long miles at that.

Logistics? Let's say that you have two open jobs, (A and B), and two men who can work those jobs (C and D). Both men can work Job A, but Man C cannot work Job B, while Man D can work both. If you want to complete both jobs, you should assign man D to Job B, and Man C to Job A. This means both jobs get done, and both men work. Assigning Job A to Man D means Job B goes undone, and Man C doesn't have a job.

I have the logistical freedom to go anywhere in the world. I'm a trained aircraft mechanic, and I can cram my entire life into my car. I have no mortgage, no family, no debt, and the only cash flow I need to get by is what's required for insurance and a cell phone bill. The rest (fuel, food, shelter) could easily be earned through non-cash trades (labor for a bed, etc).

Very, very few people have that kind of freedom these days. Most folks my age are either locked into a job, or have a house to pay off, or perhaps a family that keeps them from moving. I'm one of the rare few that can go anywhere, and do anything, and until that comes to a close, why shouldn't I do just that?

Faith? Staying in Tulsa wouldn't require faith, going overseas with the MAF would require it in buckets.

The more I think about it, the more the MAF is the right choice. Will it bring me everything I want? No, but neither will any other job. The important thing is that it's the right job, and Judah1 isn't. Even if I had none of these reasons to back up my decision, I have faith that God will not abandon me just for staying on the path He opened up for me three years ago.

And honestly, even if it was a tie, ties go to the defender. Without a damn good reason, I'm not changing course just for a shiny object, because life isn't, and shouldn't ever be, about chasing shiny objects. Maybe someday I'll have a reason to leave the MAF, but until that day, I'll stay the course.

It's not about me anyways, it's about the people I can help. If a life of living in a mud hut (which the MAF doesn't ask of its missionaries) helps get the Gospel out to folks, isn't that worth it? If one person, one time, turns to Christ, wouldn't that be worth a lifetime to not living the high life? Of doing hard things instead of the easy things?

It seems so to me. The job must be done, and I can do it. In the end, it will be worth it to me to do this, even if in the short term, it isn't. Luxuries like families, a house, and money will be provided when God decides to, and rushing that (like Abraham and Hagar) is the wrong way to do it.

The more I took myself out of the equation, the more obvious the answer became, so I went with it. That's really all there is to it.

A Question of Pay Grades

I have a confession to make: I'm sick and tired of "doctrine". I'm tired of debating doctrine, I'm tired of studying doctrine, I'm tired of critiquing doctrine, and I'm tired of judging people based on their doctrine. I've seen doctrine-based conflicts tear apart friendships, destroy churches, and drive people to the brink of suicide.

I've yet to see "doctrine" heal relationships, or bring folks together, or save anyone.

Is it even important? Is it legitimate doctrine worth all this shit? 

"Yes, yes" we all cry. "It's worth everything" we say. "We must have perfect doctrine, so that we will know what is true and what isn't."

Okay, valid point. It is very important to know that we're believing in God and not just the idea of God. "God" is a lovely idea, but unless we want to be post-modernists and say that anything goes, we need to define God. After all, the sole big difference between Mormonism, Islam, and Christianity is how we define things, not the terms we use.

The Bible does a very good job of this. God can be defined, if not easily, then at least adequately, using terms and definitions pulled from the Bible. We can also define Christ, and Salvation, and all the other related terms we Christians use on a regular basis. We've got a very well-defined list of doctrine, most of which are so well-thought-out that they haven't required a serious debate for centuries. The last serious doctrinal shift that happened inside Christianity was when one group of Protestants (Arminians) rejected another group of Protestants (Calvinists) and went back to the Orthodox position, stating that God does in fact want everyone to be saved. That was four hundred years ago.

So, what the hell are we fighting over? Have we spent the last four centuries arguing, bitterly and without end, over the shape of the wheels we keep reinventing?

In my life, which is something I take very seriously, I have come to a new conclusion:

It's a matter above my pay grade.

That's my new position: You know what I think? It doesn't matter what I think.

On a good day, I've got like ten brain cells that I can rub together and come up with a thought. Maybe 15. Compared to God, I know nothing, understand nothing, contribute nothing, and can change nothing. So why should I keep trying to reinvent the wheel, to find something new in the Bible that will suddenly make all of the odd bits of doctrine we fight over clear?

I have today figured out. Kinda. I know a minor part of what I'm going to do today. I'm going to finish this post, get it posted, and then I'll  probably get something to eat. I may play some Skyrim, or I may work on my novel after that. As far as theology goes, as far as doctrine is concerned, I'm going to stay on the path I already know: God has opened many doors that have led to me moving towards becoming a missions mechanic, and I see no reason for that to change today.

I don't need to understand God. It's a fool's mission anyways. I will never understand the full scope and scale of why God did certain things. I don't even understand why Christ died for me. I can put it into dry, technical words, but I cannot understand it. It's beyond me, I wouldn't sacrifice my son for anyone, if I was ever blessed with one.

I can, however, seek to understand what God wants me to do. Note that I didn't say "why", I said "what". "Why me?" is a question I'm never going to have a good answer for, but I do believe that I can find an answer to "what". I'm an aircraft mechanic, and I'm headed into the mission field. That is a "what" that fulfills every part of me that's ever wondered what the meaning of life is. I have a lot of reasons "why" I'm going into the mission field, some of them I've detailed elsewhere on this blog, but those are reasons for me. I won't pretend that any of those reasons are God's reasons.

I don't know "why" God does what He does. All I know is that my part of it is to obey, without question or reservation. It's like the Book of Ecclesiastes says: "Now all has been heard, the conclusion is this: Fear God and keep His Commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil."

It doesn't say "Understand God and keep His Commandments." While it's a good thing to have clear definitions, we need to shy back from having the arrogance to say that we need to understand God. I've seen that tried, all it leads to is clinical-sounding theology, dry definitions, hypocrisy, and legalism. The definitions suffice for me, I don't need to try to understand how it all works.

I'm one man. I'm one man, one pawn on a chessboard with nearly 7 billion pieces. Every day, new pieces are added, old pieces are taken off the board. Some pieces follow commands, others don't, and out of those 7 billion pieces, I don't even understand where I fit in, or how, or why. I am quite sure, however, that I don't need to fight about doctrine if I can live by it instead.

That's my pay grade. Not to write beautiful-sounding creeds, not to dare to speak for God in doctrinal debates, but to simply live by what I believe, adjusting what I believe and how I act as necessary to stay authentic with what I know about Christ. I've yet to see a verse that says we should turn Doctrine into a war zone, even if we're called to love God with our minds.

Instead of loving God with our minds, we've turned God into a series of bullet points that we then use to rip each other apart in the name of Unity. We fight bitterly in the name of Love. We changed "doctrine" from the definitions of what we believe into an idol, more important than the faith they define. People get murdered over doctrine.

Can you imagine a thing more insulting to God than to say "that one didn't worship you properly, Oh Loving God, so we murdered him"?

I can define what I believe, because definitions are a prerequisite for belief.

However, no matter how much my sinful nature wants to, I will do my best to not allow those definitions to become battlegrounds that do nothing but mock the very things that are fought over.