I used to be certain.
Not just confident or comfortable, but certain in the way only a young person can be when handed a complete system and told it explains everything. I had been taught a theology that divided the world neatly into what was true and what was false. It came with answers for every question that mattered and, more importantly, it came with the assumption that those answers were final.
I didn’t question it. Why would I? It was what I had been given. It felt like truth because it felt like home.
When I listen to people argue about theology now, I often recognize something uncomfortably familiar. I hear the same tone of certainty I once had. I see people defending systems they didn’t build but have fully embraced. They assume their conclusions are objectively true and everything else is objectively wrong.
I understand that mindset because I once lived there.

U.S. debt per capita worse than basket cases such as Greece
We all live with a death sentence, but we act as if we’ll live forever
Society needs storytellers to help make sense of a changing world
Ghost from my past haunts me, but leaves me without answers
Openly gay people in U.S. military? So what? I have no objections
Obama’s delusion about ‘explaining’ illustrates all-too-common narcissism
We all know fairy tales aren’t true, but maybe we need such illusions
Just underneath a civilized veneer, savage conqueror lives in my DNA