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.

Federal budget numbers too big to comprehend? This makes it simple
You’re wrong! If you don’t agree, you’re just an evil, lying moron
I fear nobody will come with me as I start down a difficult path
Why is real love so hard to find? Look into a mirror for the culprit
Well-meaning parents stifle kids by trying to make their decisions
Suicide ends pain of depression, but scars loved ones left behind
Gloria Allred wants free speech for her, but not for Rush Limbaugh
Dying Phelps’ anti-gay cult is vile and wrong, but I don’t hate him