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.

Our inexplicable behavior ‘signals’ to the world who and what we are
Media and mass hysteria lead us into madness of celebrity worship
To stay sane and fight life’s battles, we aliens need places of sanctuary
No ebooks for me: Reading is about more than simply absorbing data
Chick-fil-A boycott misguided; tolerance has to run both ways
If Ron Paul was ‘our last hope,’ what’s your backup plan now?
There’s a lot to complain about, but miracle is so much goes right