The world of politics, I believe, is directly linked to the state of our society. The state of our society is linked directly to our faith. Faith guides ethics and morals. This is not to say that those without faith have no morals or ethics. However, I believe that when the morality of a community, or nation, breakdown, it can be directly contributed to the breakdown of faith. And as these morals breakdown, so does society, and ultimately, so follows our government.
Growing up, my mom was an integral part of ensuring that I was exposed to the good news of Christ. I attended church, and I believed in the crucifixion of Christ. My letterman's jacket had a descending dove on the back with the words, "Runner for Christ" below it.
My wife, raised a Catholic, but whose family was non-practicing, was attracted to me, she says, because of my firm belief in the faith of Christianity.
Problem was, I believed in Christ, but I was not to the point in my life where I "knew" Christ, as much as I thought otherwise at the time.
By the time I was married and entered the U.S. Navy, I was beginning to wonder about this belief system of Christianity that my parents tried to convince me of, and of which I thought I was a believer throughout my younger years.
In the school system, and on television and radio, I was being slowly convinced that reason and Christianity are incompatible. Through the teaching of the theory of Darwinism as "fact" in the public school system I sometimes had my doubts about Christianity. After all, I was beginning to think, how could there be a necessity for a creator if life emerged without any assistance?
Between my final years of education and my first year in the United States Navy the opinions I encountered was eating away at the traditional concepts I was taught as a young man, and leaving in its wake a worldview contrary to faith.
As I turned away from God, I believed at that time that my life became less meaningful. There was no gratifying end to all the storms of life endured here on Earth. Humanity became nothing more than a group of atoms that, in time, would leave no trace of existence in the giant dustbin that is the vast universe. All human achievements would be lost. No philosophy would remain, no evidence that humanity ever existed. Only the inevitability of nothingness would remain.
Still, despite the despair of a darkness after the end of my life, and after the inevitable end of humanity, letting go of what I thought to be the chains of a dictatorial God with numerous moral strictures made me feel elated. I was suddenly given the gift of moral freedom. I turned my back on God, meaning I could live my life for "me." Without God in my life I no longer needed to worry about ever being held accountable for my actions. Personal happiness and the pursuit of pleasure lay before me, waiting to be indulged in as much as I desired. No longer would I be haunted by God's disapproving gaze. I felt like Pinocchio at the front gate of Pleasure Island.
I set aside all of the restrictions of rules of ethics and morality. Nothing, now, including God, stood between me and ultimate freedom.
The finality of death was the least of my concerns. I was at my peak, after all. I was strong, young, virile, and ready to conquer the world. I ran 20 miles a day, could do enough push-ups to put anyone to shame, and I had a crowd of smarts in my brain that still had universities pursuing me (though a run-in I had with one school caused a number of institutions to second guess my attitude).
My intellect led me to seek out other thinkers like myself. Debating was one of my favorite pastimes. My love for debate began in high school in the "Issues and Answers" club on campus. The activity of debate carried over into my lunch hour in school as well, where nearly every day I argued politics with a gal named Amanda. She was a holdover from the early seventies anti-war movement, and I was a new Republican that admired the newly elected president, Ronald Reagan. I especially defended Reagan's economic policies, and his opinion that peace can only be achieved through strength.
By the time I was serving aboard my first naval vessel, the USS Chandler DDG-996, my immorality was in full swing. I was a womanizing, alcohol drinking, cigarette smoking, hallucinogen using bundle of God-defying rage, proclaiming that I was simply enjoying my freedom to its fullest. What I believed to be an outmoded belief of Jesus Christ made me secretly laugh at the people of faith around me. I was smug, arrogant, and felt superior to those small-minded slaves of an imaginary God that kept them in a bird cage of endless rules and restrictions. How boring of a world they lived in. How boring of a world I had left behind.
Intellectualism, and faith, were sworn enemies, in my opinion at that time. I was too smart to follow the faith of my childhood. My high IQ demanded that I dispassionately follow the conclusions of the world, rather than a Christian God that only desired to limit me in my life, and hold me back from achieving the greatness I knew was on the horizon for me. If God wanted me to be in His corner, He was going to have to do more than send a few Bible-thumpers to my door, appeal to me through the kind and loving words of my mother, or try to make me feel guilty through the venomous sermons of my local preacher.
"Bring it on," I dared Him. "Bring it on, if you even exist in the first place!"
April Fools Day, 1985, my wife gave birth to our son, Christopher David. The woman who was going through the same kind of rejection of God as I was wanted to name him Christopher because it means "Christ-like." She desired "David" as his middle name after the King of Israel in the Old Testament. I agreed. After all, what harm could become of it?
At the time I explained the birth of my son as being like going through a religious experience. My love for the frail child was so strong it hurt inside. My need to be responsible hit me like a ton of bricks. I immediately quit the heavy drinking and drug usage. The miracle that lay on my wife's chest defied my recent conclusions about the existence of God. the Bible lessons of the first part of my life haunted me. The words of philosophers and prophets intertwined in my head, battling for dominance, fighting for a pole position. I had a lot of motivation to remain on my path away from God, but the birth of my son planted a seed of doubt that appealed to me to return to the faith of my childhood. But it didn't just want me to return to my faith. This time it wanted me to practice my faith in a manner that was more than simply saying "Amen" during church service, and leaving God inside the four walls of Church on Sunday.
There is a funny thing about when we demand wake-up calls from God. Sometimes, when you dare God to reveal Himself to you, He obliges, and in ways you may never imagine.
Read part two of this piece HERE.
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