Plans to "come out" soon!

I've got a lot of things cooking lately.

• As you may have noticed, I started an index for Letters to a Doubting Thomas, which means a lot of work writing up thoughts
• I've got comments to write for The Agnostic Inquirer as well
• I've got two posts to finish on Faith and Certitude from more than a year ago
• I'm working on a second draft of my analysis of Fortune Hi-Tech Marketing
• I've been slacking on homeowner duties... rebuilding snowblower carburetor (I'm in MN, remember?), putting film on any leaky windows, taking out window AC units, etc.
• Did I mention I'm a husband with two kids?

Nevertheless, I'm really pushing to get my "statement of nonbelief" finished and sent to those who still don't know. My wife and I were involved in a Catholic campus outreach which led us to become lifelong professed members of a community for Catholic singles and families. Many of these folks (probably in the couple of hundreds) still don't know after almost two years that I no longer believe in god. Heck, even my non-immediate family doesn't know -- I got asked to lead Thanksgiving prayer a year ago and that certainly didn't feel like the time to say something, so I just made something up on the spot.

One could make the case for having done this sooner, perhaps especially with family given the situation above. It's just so awkward and difficult... and I don't want to have the same one on one conversation over coffee many hundred times. Thus, I settled on a document/statement format.

I'm at the point where I'm comfortable enough in my non-belief and don't foresee anything changing unless something really radical occurs that I'd like to inform them of my non-belief in the very near future. I now have a completed draft I've been showing around a bit, and hope to have the final draft done in a couple of weeks. At that point I'll mass email it around and brace myself.

I'm wondering if any of my readers would like to take a look at it and provide feedback. I've done this with a few already, but I'd be particularly interested in hearing from any who have been through this sort of thing and could provide input as to my approach, format, verbosity, etc. I targeted a very non-debate-inspiring document almost entirely devoid of any specific reasons for my deconversion. At least one person who's read this disagreed with me and made the point that this might be the only time that some actually see arguments against the faith. I definitely got the point, but I've just had such bad experiences when conversations turn to specifics, that I'm still fairly firm in my original decision. I want this document to be primarily about understanding what I went through. My intuitions (which can and have been horridly wrong) have led me to imagine someone reading my statement (again, about understanding me), coming to my list of reasons, popping open a draft email or notes program, and starting to type rebuttals and lists of books that prove me wrong. At that point it's game over for the mission. It's now a debate focused on the content only, not the understanding I want to build between myself and those around me.\

In any case, comment with an email address if you'd like to take a look at my draft (and please conceal it, for example: "jw [dot] hendy; I use gmail"). I'm excited to finish, and think that it will mark a significant turning point in my journey -- I appreciate the assistance and support of others I've had along the way.

Many thanks and stay tuned for the final document.

Cumulative Case: My Story (3 of 5)

This is part of a series in which I present a cumulative case for why I don't believe in god. The series index is here.

This particular post presents my personal story as background information and is one of five parts. Part 1 covered my early life through some of high school. Part 2 covered my first year at a Twelve Step boarding school. This post will present my initial conversion experience. Part 4 will document my time at college and early years in marriage and part five will present the events surrounding my deconversion.
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When we left off, I had just made my second escape from the Family School. I was more determined than ever to never return. I stayed to the woods, which were much more friendly this time due to much of the snow having melted. On my first trip, I failed to mention that I passed by a cabin in the woods. My feet had been freezing at the time and, after knocking on the door to verify that no one was home, I rested on the porch for some time, trying to massage my feet into a warmer state. I came upon this cabin again. It seemed like someone's summer residence, as there were no tire tracks in the snow, no footprints, no sign of anyone living there. I knocked again just to be sure. From where I'm not exactly sure, but an idea arose in my mind. Rather than limit myself to the porch, I decided to break in. I heaved a rock through the basement window and crawled in. Unfortunately, I found the door to the upstairs locked. After trying various ways to get it open, I crawled back out and threw another rock through the living room window. I went in and began to explore. My main goal was to get drunk. I had been at the school for a year, was incredibly angry about my existence there, and think that in addition to simply feeling the effects of intoxication (to escape), I also wanted to do something that would "give a middle finger" to the school. As counter-intuitive as that seems, that's what was going through my mind. Somehow I concluded that I could exact some kind of emotional revenge by doing what they didn't want me to do.

In any case, I did find some alcohol. It was somewhat surreal. I actually found what I hoped for and it came time to decide whether I was really about to throw my year of sobriety down the drain. I did. I found a radio and listed to some classic rock for a while and then packed a bag with helpful supplies (extra socks, bread, water, alcohol) and left. I made it into town late that night and had no idea what to do. I walked all the way through the town (it only takes about 20min) and came up on a highway department site right before the on ramp to the highway. There were a lot of yellow service trucks there and several happened to be open. I slept there for the night, though it wasn't good sleep at all. It seemed I had traded less snow for colder temperatures. It was about 10F (according to the outside thermometer at a nearby bank), and my pained feet would wake me up after a short time and I'd have to pace around and stomp them to keep warm.

The next day I entered the town's diner and just sat there. I asked for water with no money to buy anything. They tend to know a runaway when they see one and, for whatever reason, take kindly to them. They gave me some coffee and a sandwich for no charge. I was warned that staff would be coming in throughout the day to look for me (like I said, they must have quite a lot of experience with runaways). This ended up happening later that afternoon. A staff and student came in and sat down on either side of me. They said I looked like crap and asked if I was ready to go back. I said I was and we walked out to the car. Just as we got to the car, though, I ran off again into the woods. I hid there until much later that night and then returned to the diner. I should mention that throughout this time I was drinking the alcohol I stole -- I was in somewhat of a perpetual buzz.

While in the restaurant, a younger gentleman came and sat down. It came up that I had run away from the school and he started expressing his distaste for it (it seems that quite a few of the townspeople don't like it, actually). In any case, he was quite kind to me and gave me some cigarettes. Somehow it came up that he had some pot and I asked if I could get high with him. He agreed and once the restaurant closed, we left together. We drove off somewhere and I got high. It was quite odd. I recall the feelings being very similar to how they had always felt, but at the same time would almost describe it as being able to watch myself with a more "mature mind," knowing full well that this was pointless and wrong. One other way to put it would be, perhaps, that I was unable to fully enter in to the experience -- a part of me was shaking it's head even as the other part was partaking.

I slept in another pickup that night, and returned to the diner the next day. Soon enough, a staff and two students came in, but this time not so cordially. I made a break for the back door but couldn't unlock it in time to get out. I was more or less seized and not released until I was in the back seat with a student on either side. Once we got back to the school, I contemplated making a break for it one more time, but in trying to decide if I could outrun everyone and whatever other micro-evaluations were going on... I lost my chance.

My face was red from the cold. I hadn't showered in a few days. I didn't have much sleep in me, either. I looked and felt like crap -- this was only intensified by having to face everyone who was still back at the school -- disappointed staff and students. It's like it all sinks in over several hours: shame, helplessness, some despair about ever leaving... It's an awful feeling. The repercussions for a second runaway are quite a bit more severe. My shoes were taken and I wore only shower flip flops (to reduce the likelihood of me gallivanting through the woods again), I was on "double shadow" (where two students have to monitor me all day, everyday), and most importantly, I was put onto what is known as "work sanction." Work sanction entails being temporarily suspended from classes to do work. This is typically done when someone is perhaps failing classes or so rebellious that they aren't putting any effort toward school anyway. There can be several aims: to punish you for not doing what you're supposed to, to "get the body working so the mind will follow", or to show you the pointlessness of your rebellion (e.g. a student may be made to clean rocks outside with a toothbrush all day and then just throw them back afterward). For the family group I was in, work sanctions were simply automatic after a second runaway attempt.

For a week and half, I would spend all morning in study hall to read AA literature, and I spent the afternoon paving a dirt road with pebbles. There was a huge pile of rocks and I would fill two 5 gallon pickle buckets with pebbles, carry them several hundred feet, and then dump them out on the dirt road to pave it. We did this for several hours every afternoon. I did this in flip flops. In February. Needless to say, you're quite tired at the end of the day. I was also in the corner and standing, which only added to the difficulty.

For whatever reason, I couldn't contain my secret anymore about the house. I confessed to having broken in. This brought about quite a lot of activity. I had to make a statement and be formally arrested for the crime (handcuffed and brought before a judge to be arraigned). I was informed that my charges were to be 3rd degree burglary, a felony, with the potential for a six year prison sentence. It was crushing news. It also began my conversion.

I want to spend a brief moment discussing my spiritual journey thus far in the story, which I've left out so far. Recall that I became Catholic in Part 1. The Family School had a parish priest who spent an immense amount of time and energy with the kids at the boarding school. He held confessions, talked to anyone who requested his time, said Mass on Wednesday mornings and Sunday evenings, and held retreats every single weekend for Family School kids. He was insanely generous and probably one of the most loving, caring, passionate, spiritually energetic, disciplined, wise, and kind men I've ever met. That statement stands regardless of whether we still line up on views about the supernatural realm. He was one of my heroes. During that first year, I did try to take the faith life more seriously. Despite becoming Catholic, religion was previously a way for me just to fit in and avoid feeling awkward. It really did start to become something I took interest in. The priest there helped that, and the immense spiritual/prayer focus of the school in general also inspired this. I tried praying sincerely and tried "living my life for god." I guess I don't recall if I had any sense of what that was or meant, but I tried nonetheless. I began having an awareness of god, at least, to the extent that I was "meta-aware" of when I did things I thought were probably not pleasing to him (saying something inappropriate or looking at a girl's butt or chest, for example).

Back to my conundrum. I would caution one from taking a simple "foxhole" categorization view of this event. I don't consider that my response to all of this was as simple as, "god, get me out of this and I'll never drink again." It was more than that. For the first time, I really had to admit that I had screwed myself purely for the sake of getting drunk. Yes, everything I put my parents through was horrible, but I think there was some degree of thinking that I wasn't "that bad" compared to others at the school, or that I never got any "real consequences" from my actions. Well, here it was. I had just done what I never would have thought I was capable of. I broke into a house to get drunk and now faced some incredibly serious charges. I should also mention that the Family School sends kids on a tour (kind of like Scared Straight) regularly and I had attended one of these tours a few months previous. Having seen a prison, I was fairly sure that I would never live through one. This brought about the realization that I had literally forfeit my life through my actions. I had some very intense times of prayer, and they weren't of the foxhole type -- they were simply an admission of complete powerlessness (I had literally put control of my life into someone else's hands) and an admission that god was god and I was not. I surrendered my life unto god (I would say this was, essentially, declaring my allegiance to live according to god's ways).

I went to court for my sentencing and received what's known as a Youthful Offender status: my felony was reduced to a misdemeanor and my record would be sealed and erased contingent on certain conditions such as completing my time successfully at the Family School and completing three years of probation (no drugs, good grades, attending AA meetings, etc.). Obviously this was quite the reprieve. I was overjoyed. I believed that god had given me a second (or nth) chance to live a good life. I devoted myself to god, to the twelve steps, and to a path of sobriety. I became even more devout and intent on being spiritually healthy and living a live pleasing to god. Despite still having to work out of some messes (still in the corner, on work sanction, and behind on school work), I couldn't have cared less. I would have done about anything. I regained trust fairly quickly -- others could see a real change and knew I meant it this time.

I finished out the rest of my time at the Family School and graduated in December of 2002. My parents were able to take me home to visit some colleges toward the end of that year, and I chose the University of St. Thomas (UST) in St. Paul, MN, primarily because of a charismatic Catholic community called Saint Paul's Outreach (SPO). One of the teachers at the Family School was a St. Thomas alum and was involved with SPO. They had houses around UST where Catholic students would live in order to grow in their faiths while at college. I had been away almost two years at this point and was a bit nervous about spreading my newfound sober wings at college. My sobriety and faith were more important than ever and these Catholic houses sounded like the perfect way to help foster both.

I wasn't set to start college until the fall of 2003, so I made the choice to stay and work as a staff member at the school from Jan 2003 - June 2003 instead of going home where staying sober might be a bit more difficult. This also was a way to "give back" to students. It can be a powerful message to see a graduate staying by his own free choice in a place one considers to be a precursor to hell. I shared my story and witnessed and tried to give other students hope. I was quite a role model for the students and I'm sure I provided the staff with hope as well. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the success rate for addicted kids isn't that great. It can do a lot of good for staff members, who spend their waking hours pouring their hearts out to help troubled kids, actually see fruit develop from their work. It was a great six months.

Thus ends another part of my saga. Continue on with my summer at home, my college years, and early marriage in Part 4.

Cumulative Case: My Story (1 of 5)

This is part of a series in which I present a cumulative case for why I don't believe in god. The series index is here.

This particular post presents my personal story as background information and is one of five parts. This post presents my early life through some of high school. Part 2 and Part 3 present my experience at a Twelve Step boarding school. Part 4 will document my time at college and early years in marriage and part five will present the events surrounding my deconversion.
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I'd like to kick off this cumulative case with my story. I think it's important as background information, and it will definitely be a part of the "mini-book" I'd like to finish this year so this will get some of that writing out of the way. I write this for two reasons. For one, I've found that non-believers who have always been so are quite often baffled by the fact that anyone could be a believer. I've also found that believers can be skeptical that de-converts were ever "true" Christians. I want to provide insight to the non-believer while simultaneously debunking potential accusations of "fake" belief. I'll be breaking this up into a few posts to make it more digestible. And so the story begins, "It was a dark and stormy night..."

I was born in Milwaukee in 1984. I have a half-brother who is 15 years my senior. He was out of the house after he graduated high school and before I had any memory-retaining consciousness. My dad is remarried; my parents have been the only two I've known and are still married today. They started their own graphic design business (back in the day, this meant developing pre-PowerPoint presentations, developing film, mounting it in plastic slides, and putting their physical slides into carousels for projectors). The business ran out of our basement until I was in 3rd or 4th grade or so when it moved to a rented space in Wauwatosa, WI. I attended a public school in inner city Milwaukee for k-5th. Apparently it is now closed! I then went to St. Benard's grade school in Wauwatosa for 6th-8th grades. My parents picked this location as it was only about 1.33 (repeating, of course) blocks from their business. I think they also might have thought a Catholic school would have better academics and/or students and faculty.

I can't speak for the academics since I've no grounds for comparison to a public school, but if they've ever been wrong about any hunches... that about Catholic students is the one. I can't think of a time when I've been surrounded by more power-hungry, spite-infested, vulturous, and simply mean spirited kids. Most of those in my class had been together since kindergarten, so I was naturally the "fresh meat" of the class. I couldn't tell you how many times my mom would pull up in front of the school to drop me off and I'd cry and beg her not to make me go. I also got glasses and braces that same first year, so my looks weren't doing me any favors.

I think this phase was extremely crucial and transformative in a negative way. What did I do in this environment? I adapted. I've never been above-average for height/weight or strength (in order to threaten others with beat downs), so I took to mastering the art of comedic relief and mischief to both build my reputation and keep the negative attention away. I learned to mock others for their abnormalities. I learned to steal. I learned to make horrid insults about teachers and other students alike. I became a sort of linguistic murder expert. Nothing was too foul, vulgar, or obscene to leave my lips. I honestly think that prior to this I had been a pretty darn good kid. Innocent (for the most part), sensitive, naive, etc. My parents might disagree (after all, I did insist that our cat, Spunky, was the one responsible for the side of the bathtub being covered in crayon at one point...), but I think I was pretty good-natured. These three years really transformed me and contributed to later troubles.

I took up occasional smoking in 7th grade and also experimented a little with drinking with a friend of mine. I continued smoking pretty much from here on out whenever I could. This often entailed finding older kids to buy me cigarettes, or (more often) stealing cigarettes from people who smoked. I got caught a few times in grade school which was quite upsetting to my parents. Smoking was always quite an addictive type of behavior for me. I craved them. I started to obsess about when I could smoke next. Getting caught only inspired me to try harder not to get caught. I just wanted to smoke.

Before I move onto high school, I should mention that my parents were never really aligned with any particular faith/religion. My mother was raised Catholic and my father Baptist. Both left their respective faiths. We attended Unity Church for a while (I think this is the one) and then something I vaguely recall as "Science of Mind." We spent most of our time, however, participating in Siddha Yoga. My dad was also engaged in Eckankar during most of my life, though he more recently fell away after their scandal was uncovered. Faith never really played a big part of our lives. I would lay in bed each Sunday hoping that we weren't going anywhere or that by me not getting up I might make us late enough that my parents would abandon the mission. Once at St. Bernard's, I was suddenly in the extreme minority. The whole school attended Mass each Wednesday morning, and I was one of just a handful in the whole school who had to turn their knees to the side to let all of the communion recipients through. I felt very left out. At some point RCIA was mentioned and I looked into it. It just didn't end up happening at St. Benard's, but the seed was planted.

Then came high school - Marquette University High School, another Catholic (Jesuit, actually) school. Very good academics and great sports. I played soccer from age nine onward and like to think I was pretty good. At age 11 I joined a traveling team, the Milwaukee Nationals. It was a great experience for me, but I can't figure out how my parents did it. We had weekend trips all the time to surrounding states like Illinois, Iowa, Indiana, and Ohio. We travelled as far as Texas for the Dallas Cup. I played on that team for four years, and in 1998 we won the Wisconsin State Cup (1998 for U-14 boys). I played soccer at Marquette as well. I didn't make it to playing varsity (story to come), but Wikipedia can tell you why Marquette was a good choice for soccer!

We had a second German foreign exchange student live with us my freshman year (the first lived with us the previous year). The first was a pretty straight shooter, but the second was, shall I say, a little more "supportive" of my smoking and alcohol discovery. I got home from school before my parents got off work and he and I (or just I) would sometimes help ourselves to a portion of the "spirits" they kept under the kitchen sink. I wouldn't do this every day, but definitely with regularity. My smoking also increased. I was able to walk to a Walgreens near my high school and loiter outside until I saw someone I judged to be willing to buy me cigarettes. After a few tries, I always found someone. I got caught plenty more times, and smoking became quite the feud arena between my parents and I. They are quite honest folks and would report me to Marquette authorities each time I got caught since I was required to sign an Athletic Honor Code agreeing not to smoke or use illegal substances. I never did get caught during my two soccer seasons there, so I would join up with an off-season sport to serve out my athletic suspension. I joined track the first time and cross-country the second. I ended up not being too bad, though I'll take the 400m to a 5k any day of the week.

Sophomore year is when it all changed. It was homecoming. I managed to find someone who would go with me from the female equivalent to Marquette, Divine Savior of Holy Angels (oh, I forgot to mention that Marquette was an all-boys school). I don't even know if I can remember her name. In any case, there was a sleepover for the guys at a friend's house and a sleepover for the girls at someone else's house. Someone happened to have a bit of pot with them at the party and I was anxious to try it. High school was pretty much my first time ever having a real opportunity to try it and I can distinctly recall wanting to try it quite early after realizing it was a possibility, but the possibility never arose until that night. I smoked it but didn't feel anything. I'd heard it took often took a few times to feel the effects of marijuana, so naturally I dedicated myself to trying it until I felt the effects. I knew someone who sold it, bought a bag, and smoked outside my bedroom window from a tin foil pipe for several days in a row until I got high. And I definitely got high.

After that, I was pretty much off to the races. I smoked cigarettes whenever I could, drank when I could, and tried my damndest to get high every weekend. Like my relationship with cigarettes, my usage began to take over. I didn't want to wait until the weekends anymore. I would get high after my parents went to bed so I could lay on my back and stare at my bedroom light while listening to Dark Side of the Moon. I'd try to detect the exact moment I heard the opening and closing heartbeat in Speak to Me and Eclipse. I'd make faces at myself in my bathroom mirror for quite a long time. Living the high life, right? My parents eventually found out the following summer. By that time I was probably getting high at least a few times a week. They were obviously quite disappointed but more than that I'd say that they were simply concerned. They didn't want me to adversely affect my life, future, talents, etc. They asked if I'd be willing to enroll in an outpatient rehab program, and I agreed. To this day I'm not exactly sure why. Really wanting to change? I'm skeptical about that. I lean more toward the theory that I was doing something finite duration (3 mos.) which I thought I could endure yet which would produce a substantially longer lasting return (renewed trust from my parents).

During all of this mess, wouldn't you know that an opportunity to enter RCIA came up. I had now been in Catholic school for about 3.5 years and still felt left out. Now I got to feel left out among a group of about 1,000 instead of just a few hundred at St. Bernard's. There were monthly Masses and other Catholic things to remind me that I didn't fit in. I joined an RCIA program with our local church and became Catholic on the Easter Vigil in 2000. I was already baptized thanks to my Baptist grandma (my dad's mom). She freaked out when she found out that I hadn't been baptized when I was visiting her in Florida on summer. I was seven and her pastor came to the house and asked me if I had any Bible verses memorized. We learned John 3:16 together, he asked me if I would like to be baptized, and I said yes even though I had no idea what I was doing. That was that. With RCIA I sealed the deal with the Catholic Church.

During rehab I stayed clean except for one relapse during those three months, which, during a flash of inspiration, I told my parents about on my own. I don't think very highly of the program (I recall drawing cartoons and words on the inside and outside of paper bags to represent what we felt on the inside compared to what we portrayed to the world) and still don't think very highly of outpatient programs. They comprise an extremely minimal commitment (2 or so hours three nights a week) and don't alter any of the typical daily patterns -- "negative" friend interaction, usage opportunities, peer pressure, etc. In any case, when the rehab period was over, I stayed clean for another three months or so. This was essentially in hopes of getting back together with a girl I had dated (I won't go into that), but when that possibility vanished, I also lost my inspiration to abstain. I started getting high again.

A short time after that I was arrested. My mom and I were on our way home from school, and I had a bottle of vodka in my backpack (same loitering technique used with cigarettes applied to the local liquor store). I'm still not sure if she just suspected that I was under some type of influence due to my attitude or if she heard the boggle "glug" in my backpack, but she made a detour to the local library, called the police from inside (while I waited in the car), and then drove to the police station to have my searched. They found my unopened bottle of alcohol, but also a marijuana pipe and some pot. Big game changer for me. Rather than respond rationally (hmmm, these activities seem to be burdening my life quite a bit, perhaps I should course-correct), I entered a downward spiral. I essentially engaged in an all out power struggle with my parents. I began getting high every day, going and coming whenever I cared to, stealing as much money from them as I could, and so on. The language wasn't too pretty, either (as you'll recall, I had been working on my linguistic assaults since grade school thanks to the Catholic kids). The arrest resulted in an initial court visit where they prescribed 50 hours of community service, $500 to cover initial legal fees, and a clean drug test, all to be completed in 90 days. I was arrested on January 6th, 2001, and over the next month did absolutely nothing toward accomplishing those requirements.

Another game changer came on February 7th, 2001 at approximately 5:30 in the morning when T.J. and Brian from a custodial transportation service woke me from slumber, drove me to Mitchell airport, and joined me on a flight to the Family Foundation School in Hancock, N.Y. But that segment of my saga is for Part 2...

Book Series: Letters to a Doubting Thomas | Layman

In the following series, I'll be posting my notes on Letters to a Doubting Thomas by C. Stephen Layman.

Introduction
The book takes an interesting format; rather than the typical monologue, we have a dialog between an inquisitive skeptic, Thomas, and his former college friend, Zach. Zach is said to have been a philosophy major in college, and so when Thomas gets bitten by the "god question," he turns to Zach for input. The two dialog back and forth in letters about various questions. What I like about this format is that it does create a partial feel of real world exchanges -- Zach might make a case and Thomas will question it, or think of an alternative hypothesis and put it forth. I will say that it's a bit artificial. Zach monopolizes the boook, and Thomas' questions are usually only a few lines compared to Zach's paragraphs of philosophical explanations. Furthermore, usually after the first explanation from Zach, Thomas responds with, "After reading your last letter, you have sold me on X." He's somewhat of a pushover during the book, despite this conclusion (final letter from Thomas):

Dear Zach,

You've given me a lot to think about! As you know, I'm not a person that changes his mind very easily or often, so, frankly, I'm still in a state of doubt... But I will admit this much: You've convinced me that Theism has a lot more going for it than I supposed.

The book came highly recommended via Common Sense Atheism for my own Truth-Seeker Challenge. I've since decided to pretty much abandon that goal, but I'd already purchased this book, and so I read it. I'll be putting together comments by chapter, which each correspond to a line of argument presented by Layman via his philosophical apologist character, Zach.

Posts in this series

• Ch 1: Theism and Naturalism
  • Zach puts forward that to really compare two things, you need to compare apples to apples. Thus, he says, that one needs a positive case for something as an alternate to theism. The two agree on naturalism and then Zach puts forward definitions for both theism and naturalism. They discuss the prior probabilities of each.
• Ch 2 and 3: Religions Experience
  • Zach suggests religious experience as a basis for increasing the probability of theism. They discuss types of experience and whether they, as a category, are reliable as far as material for inferences.
• Ch 4: Cosmological Argument
  • Self explanatory; a discussion about the origin of the universe.
• Ch 5: A Design Argument (in actuality, a fine-tuning argument)
  • A discussion of the fine-tuning and what better serves to explain this phenomenon -- theism or four naturalism-compatible alternatives: coincidence, necessity, percentage of possible worlds, or the many-worlds hypothesis.
• Ch 6: Free Will
  • Zach approaches this dialog from the angle of free will. What is it? Do we have it? (He thinks yes.) Given that we have it, what better explains it -- theism or naturalism?
• Ch 7 and 8: The Problem of Evil
  • Zach takes a chapter each for theism and naturalism to examine how one might explain evil in the world.
• Ch 9: A Moral Argument
  • What's right and wrong? How best can we explain the "moral order"?

Thoughts on my first prayer meeting in a while

My wife and I are/were (respectively) lifelong committed members of the Community of Christ the Redeemer, an organization which fosters various activities to build the faith lives of Catholic singles and families. These activities primarily consist of "gatherings," held bi-weekly, which consist of a talk and praise and worship time. (Oh, re. "praise and worship" in the same post as the word "Catholic," this group began as a descendant of the Catholic Charismatic Renewal from the late 60's, so things like belief in "inspired words," healing, prophecy, speaking in tongues, and expressive praise are all present.) My wife continues to attend these gatherings, but I haven't attended regularly for some time, perhaps a year or more. I do show up when there's something a bit more on the social end of the spectrum, such as a picnic or dinner for the married folks. This fulfills the desire of my wife for me to be present sometimes, as well as allowing me to see some of the friends I don't see outside of such events.

We had such an event last night. It's a few-times-a-year event in which a subset of the Community who serve or used to serve with Saint Paul's Outreach (SPO) get together for an evening. SPO is an evangelistic missionary group that carries out various events for college students in an attempt to build Catholic faith on campuses. My wife and I were both involved during out time in college, and I worked as a missionary for them 30 hrs/wk the year after I graduated. In any case, we debated whether or not I should go or stay home with the kids. She really wanted me to go, so I agreed. It's typically a fairly "low key" event anyway. Some welcoming praise and worship, an update about SPO, and then fellowship and snacks. Instead, the event turned out to be almost all praise and worship, a bit of inspirational/theological talk, and not so much social time. It was such an interesting experience that I thought I'd write about it.

First, regarding the praise and worship, I was reminded of how insanely awkward it feels to be the only person in the room not doing what everyone else is doing. Singing, raising hands, praying out loud, etc. That used to be me and some present don't know about my non-belief. I find myself constantly wondering who's looking to see if my lips are moving. I did sing quietly for a little, as I still know the songs, they're catchy, and I like to harmonize... but it just feels wrong. I don't believe the words I'm singing, and so I find myself compelled not to sing at all.

Interestingly enough, as I debated whether or not to leave and spend some time on the phone with my parents or someone else until they were ready to snack and talk, I was struck by another thought: I used to have no problem at all being strong in my Catholicism in the few times I was at some other type of religious service. It might have been a bit awkward, but I recall that it was a simple mandate: I was Catholic, so I did A, B, and C and I didn't do X, Y and Z. Now I'm a non-believer, so I just don't sing these songs or make the sign of the cross. That's that. It was one of those "Aha" moments that's a bit hard to put into words. I guess I'd just say that I seem to have re-felt a bit of the force of my new identity. This is who I am and I shouldn't be ashamed to act accordingly. I never used to and I shouldn't now.

Next, there was a talk. It was given by a friend of mine. We still get together every 2-6 months and catch up. He's a lively guy and we have a blast at our catch-ups over coffee. The talk was on praying in auto-pilot mode and how the word "worship" is tossed around as just something that happened. "We worshipped," "the worship was alright," etc. He called those present to recall their smallness in comparison to god and how great of an opportunity it is to give honor to the lord. To imprint this, he used Isaiah 40:12-26:

Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand,
  or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens?
Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket,
  or weighed the mountains on the scales
  and the hills in a balance?
Who can fathom the Spirit of the LORD,
  or instruct the LORD as his counselor?
Whom did the LORD consult to enlighten him,
   and who taught him the right way?
Who was it that taught him knowledge,
   or showed him the path of understanding?

Surely the nations are like a drop in a bucket;
   they are regarded as dust on the scales;
   he weighs the islands as though they were fine dust.
Lebanon is not sufficient for altar fires,
   nor its animals enough for burnt offerings.
Before him all the nations are as nothing;
   they are regarded by him as worthless
   and less than nothing.

With whom, then, will you compare God?
   To what image will you liken him?

[...]

Do you not know?
   Have you not heard?
Has it not been told you from the beginning?
   Have you not understood since the earth was founded?
He sits enthroned above the circle of the earth,
   and its people are like grasshoppers.
He stretches out the heavens like a canopy,
   and spreads them out like a tent to live in.
He brings princes to naught
   and reduces the rulers of this world to nothing.
No sooner are they planted,
   no sooner are they sown,
   no sooner do they take root in the ground,
than he blows on them and they wither,
   and a whirlwind sweeps them away like chaff.

“To whom will you compare me?
   Or who is my equal?” says the Holy One.
Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens:
   Who created all these?
He who brings out the starry host one by one
   and calls forth each of them by name.
Because of his great power and mighty strength,
   not one of them is missing.

Now, I get the point. I will say that I have an entirely different set of lenses on at this point in life. For one, some things that struck out to me are some of the questions that made sense back then but that don't anymore. For example:

• Who has measured the waters? We have. It's "1.4×1021 kg, which is about 0.023 percent of the Earth's total mass"
• ...or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? We have. It's "The observable universe is thus a sphere with a diameter of about 28 billion parsecs (93 billion, or 9.3 × 1010, light years). Assuming that space is roughly flat, this size corresponds to a comoving volume of about 3.5 × 1080 cubic meters."
• ...or weighed the mountains on the scales? I couldn't find exact data, but we probably have the tools.

Along these same lines are things like god sitting "above the circle of the earth" and "stretches out the heavens like a canopy." These are probably references to poor understandings of the cosmos back then.

The second thing that struck me is the demeaning way in which the Old Testament talks about people. I get that humans are small in the theological view. Anything is when you think god is infinite and omni-max. But referring to humans as "grasshoppers" or referring to him blowing on them (which connotes choice and intent to me) and causing them to whither just doesn't jive with Jesus' more tactful ways. He can say things like, "Why do you call me good? Only god is truly good" (Luke 18:19). That doesn't quite say the same thing as "Before him all the nations are as nothing; they are regarded by him as worthless and less than nothing." God just ends up sounding like a power hungry prick with questions like "To whom will you compare me? Or who is my equal" (stated as quotes form the holy one). Seriously? God is omniscient and omnipotent... he already knows the answer. To ask it anyway when you know you're the most powerful being is just silly, especially when you created these beings to share in loving relationship with you. Why are Old Testament passages like this never quoted in the Catholic Catechism during the ooey gooey parts (see numbers 1-3)?

The speaker used the phrase "getting on our knees, literally and figuratively" to call those present on to reverent prayer. As soon as he used this phrase, I thought it would be entertaining to predict how many would feel called to actually get on their knees on that tile floor. I predicted 25%. I was a bit high, as I counted seven out of the ~30 present. Two behind me, though, sat down in reverent posture. Perhaps they would have kneeled if they could.

Throughout the ordeal, I stared at the clock in front of me. I couldn't believe that this 7:30-9:30p event was getting done with the talk and prayer time shortly after 9p. I was saddened. I came to enjoy the company of people I don't get to see very often. Instead, I stood as the single immobile one during more than an hour of praise and worship. It just felt like such a waste of time. I could have been learning something new or simply enjoying the company of another human in tangible interaction. Instead I was thinking about things like the above, and hearing wrap-up exhortations to "gaze upon the lord like he gazes upon us" and thinking, "You mean gazing upon him like a piece of worthless dung?"

The cherry on top is that my wife was a wreck, as the event really brought to the surface the difficulty of our non-shared belief. So she spent her night crying with a friend afterward. I'll be trying to find out in advance what the prayer to social time ratio is for these events in the future, if I ever attend again. For religion being the vehicle intended to bring us to heaven, god has surely created one of the most divisive sorts of human categorization that exists today.¹ And that's a painful state of affairs.

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¹ I've written a bit about this elsewhere, too. Some might say that this is the product of man, not god's intent. That might be. But god still delivered the scriptures that he did with the words that he used, which is what man uses as his guide. One must at least concede that some very well-intending Christians think scripture supports cutting one's self off from non-Christians. Like this guy.

Letters to a Doubting Thomas: Argument from Design

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This is part of a series of posts in response to "Letters to a Doubting Thomas" C. Stephen Layman.
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Chapter Five of Layman's book is entitled, "A Design Argument." By this time in their dialog, Zach (our curious agnostic) and Thomas (his college philosophy major friend) have covered a priori probabilities for theism and naturalism, suggesting that naturalism comes out ahead due to its simplicity (lower numbers of both entities and types of entities), but that the two end up tied because naturalism is required to complicate itself due to arguments from religious experience. They then move on to cosmological arguments. Both of these will be covered in other posts; for now, we'll just pick up with design.

First he lays out what he means by "fine-tuned" (summarized from pages 111-112):

• If the big bang hadn't "banged" with it's precise force, the universe would have either collapsed on itself or expanded so rapidly that no stars would ever have formed. In either case, no life providing energy would have been present from entities such as our sun.
• Similarly, the balance between gravitational pull and electromagnetic forces need to be precisely what they are (not differing by more than 1 in 10⁴⁰ or the sun would not be stable
• The nuclear force needs to be what it is for diversity of elements
• And so on. He states that, "Over twenty such physical parameters must have values that fall within highly restricted ranges in order for life to be present."

Before I present Layman's list of hypotheses he thinks are the candidates for explanations of fine-tuning, I want to present what I take to be his criteria for judging said candidates. Zach points out that not everything may have an explanation, and Thomas agrees:

Not everything can be explained. Whatever view we take, there will be some ultimate hypothesis—the claim that some entity has such-and-such features, and for this we will have no explanation.

But we are looking for an ultimate metaphysical postulate that will explain as much as possible. We want to go as deep as we can. Why are things as they are? (p. 114)

From here, he lists our choices for such postulates:

1. Coincidence: Our universe might have had many different basic structures, the vast majority of which would not be life supporting. The actual structure of the physical universe is simply a coincidence.
2. Physical necessity: The ultimate physical structures can be of only one form, and that is the form our universe takes.
3. Percentage of possible universes: Some large percentage of the total number of possible physical universes is life-supporting (i.e., the basic structures in those possible universes would support life if the universes were actual). Hence, any actual universe has a good chance of being life-supporting.
4. The many-universes hypothesis: Some (rather special) part of physical reality generates multiple universes. Call this part of physical reality the universe generator. The universe generator generates many universes, with their basic physical structures (laws, constants, and initial conditions) varying at random. And since there have been or are many actual universes, it is not surprising that at least one supports life.
5. Theism: The universe supports life because life fulfills certain divine purposes (or at least is a means to their fulfillment).

Naturalists are free to adopt explanations 1 through 4. (p. 115-116)

Zach dismisses coincidence, as it has no predictive power. One expects nothing one way or the other by suggesting that a life sustaining universe is a "coincidence." While Thomas hasn't asked for an explanation of how theism fares better than naturalism yet, Zach tosses in this diddy at the end of the letter dealing with coincidence:

Life in general, but especially conscious, intelligent life, is an extraordinary phenomenon, one that commonly evokes a sense of wonder. It is also something an intelligent being might well be interested in producing. And of course a life-supporting universe is a means of producing life. (p. 117)

Already, I predict the same general form of theistic argument: "It appears that we were given a privileged place in the universe. We are so wonderful when we contemplate ourselves that surely there is some special intent behind our existence given that we don't understand how we came to be in such an apparently improbable place!" This is an issue with intuitions. The same types of arguments plague the moral realm. "Things just seem so right and wrong -- they must be!" I'll quote from LessWrong's Eliezer Yudkowsky:

Besides, as a Bayesian, I don't believe in phenomena that are inherently confusing. Confusion exists in our models of the world, not in the world itself... I am not going to tell you that quantum mechanics is weird, bizarre, confusing, or alien. QM is counterintuitive, but that is a problem with your intuitions, not a problem with quantum mechanics. Quantum mechanics has been around for billions of years before the Sun coalesced from interstellar hydrogen. Quantum mechanics was here before you were, and if you have a problem with that, you are the one who needs to change. QM sure won't. There are no surprising facts, only models that are surprised by facts; and if a model is surprised by the facts, it is no credit to that model.

I love this quote, as it beautifully suggests that we need to stop bringing our intuitions to the table as good indicators of what we should be looking for. This applies both to the negative view on physics as well as the positive view on god. For example, as a non-believer, I find it ludicrous to suggest that "...conscious intelligent life... is also something an intelligent being might well be interested in producing." This is painting god in the human image. We find it intuitive to be enamored with ourselves and thus think that a being like ourselves, but with much greater power and knowledge, would literally find conscious life so wonderful that he/she/it would create an entire universe just to witness life on one planet amidst a sextillion of them? I just want to point out that even if our intuitions aren't satisfactorily fed concerning hypotheses 1-4 (and intuition is what I read Layman's comment above as describing concerning an intelligent being's desires), this doesn't mean that our intuitions were ever the target in the first place.

Now Layman lays out his case for theistic explanations for design:

As we've noted previously, a perfectly morally good being would be loving, and a loving being would be generous. A generous being would have reason to create entities with whom to share good things, that is, things that merit a response of wonder, admiration, and/or delight... So God would have reason to create conscious beings who can enjoy good things as well as reason to create the good things for conscious beings to enjoy. It seems especially clear that a loving God would have reason to create intelligent conscious creatures along with things for them to enjoy, such as beauty, interesting and significant activities, physical and mental pleasures, and satisfying personal relationships—for these are all of great value. (p. 118-119)

He then goes on to ask whether such beings need to be embodied (probably in response to the objection that god could have simply created heaven, inhabited with just souls/heavenly bodies, or perhaps been satisfied with the angels and called it a day). He says yes:

Yes. First, physical life is a good thing, in the sense that it merits a response of wonder, admiration, and/or delight... Second, a fine-tuned universe is a means to creating and sustaining embodied life... Third, as already noted, God would have reason to create intelligent living things capable of interesting and significant action...We can now combine the second and third points: A fine-tuned universe is both a means for producing (and sustaining) intelligent agents and a suitable stage for their actions. Therefore, since God has reason to create intelligent embodied life capable of interesting and significant action, God has reason to create a fine-tuned universe too... Fourth, if God creates life by means of a fine-tuned universe, then the creation of life carries with it at least two additional goods: (1) the aesthetic excellence of the physical universe... (2) The marvelous intricacy of the universe as a "mechanical" (i.e., nonteleological) system: I don't see how anyone can read a book on physics without coming away with a feeling that, if the universe is the product of design, it's a pure "marvel of engineering." (p. 118-120)

Long quote, I know, but it's nice to have everything we're working with out on the table. I also do this, as I think there's some serious issues going on above. I'll leave the first premise alone, but it falls into the category I mentioned above. In other words, "Gee, since I really love my physical life, clearly a good being would also think physical life is swell and therefore would create a universe that could give me just that."

I find the second reason a bit circular. It seems like one could reword it like so: "Would god create physical life? Yes, because a fine-tuned universe is just the sort of thing that god could have used to create physical life." But the whole chapter is trying to consider whether god is a good explanation for a fine-tuned universe (i.e. one that supports physical life). So he's asked whether god would create specifically physical beings and then used the unstated assumption that god, indeed, is the reason for the fine tuned universe to answer in the affirmative.

I find the fourth as a repeat of the first and third. Aesthetic pleasures seem mixed with "wonder" and "delight;" so would a fascination with the intricacy of the universe. I may be misreading the first, though. Perhaps he's stating that physical life (i.e. bodies) merit delight and wonder in themselves. But if that's the case, it would seem that we'd be delighting/taking wonder in the aesthetics and superb mechanics of their functioning... so the fourth still seems redundant.

Even having said this, I don't see why the above is unique to physical beings. Why couldn't there be spiritual analogs to "wonder, admiration, and/or delight," interesting and meaningful action, or aesthetic appreciation? The paragraph wants to validate god's intentions as a valid hypothesis to explain fine-tuning an entire universe; it seems that the reasons support non-physical existence as well, or at least provide no barrier to it. Thus god could just as well have not fine tuned and instead created some other type of reality that didn't require such fiddling.

They delve a bit into the other two non-theistic explanations above: the "percentage of possible universes" and "many universes" hypotheses. Layman isn't satisfied with these. The percentage argument states that there are many possible universes, and some percentage of them could lead to life. Thus, perhaps the actual universe that exists isn't that unlikely due to its supporting life. This is criticized because the named percentage of life supporting universes would be arbitrary. Layman says we have no way of knowing. Some don't think so. The main necessity for life supporting universes is a range of elements and energy providing stars. At least two individuals have run simulations over a range of cosmological constants to determine how likely such universes might be. Victor Stenger has the probability at about 50%, and Fred Adams has it at about 25%.¹

His case against the multiverse is that we 1) don't have any evidence to support the hypothesis and that 2) it multiplies entities by number and kind. As to the first point, as far as I know, he's correct. As for the second, he says that entities are multiplied in number due to the vast increase in numbers of entities, and that the hypothesis increases the kind of universe in that they are now unobservable universes postulated in addition to the one observable one.

My understanding of Occam's razor is that it's not really a strike against the multiverse hypothesis that numerous universes are postulated because it's a single hypothesis that entails such large numbers of entities. Similarly, science didn't increase in complexity each time entities that were once thought to be irreducible (say, a substance such as water) were revealed to be made up of countless numbers of molecules, which reduced to even more atoms and even more subatomic particles. No. The theory got simpler, despite entailing the existence of these entities. One theory now explained far more than coming up with individual reasons for each "essential substance." Similarly, a hypothesis that entails a multiverse isn't having to define the reasons that every single universe exists -- physics would simply entail that this is the reality of the system.

Next, Thomas asks Zach for an explanation for god. Thomas responds that the question isn't valid because god's existence is postulated not only to explain fine tuning, but also because others have had "theistic experiences." Thus, because there are other supporting reasons for god's existence, he can't be questioned simply because he's an explanation in this case. That's all that is said about the "explanation for the explanation," and it's a shame. Regardless of what other reasons are used to support god's existence, this is one being used, and it's an argument hypothesizing that only a being such as god could have the knowledge, power, and intent to being about the precise physical constants that would eventually bring living things to inhabit the earth. A fantastic examination of this hypothesis and a response can be found in Dawkins' God Delusion as well as this wonderful summary at "Omnis affirmatio est negatio". The response is called the "Ultimate 747 Gambit."

This rebuttal beautifully ties in with a point I made earlier: we just love to use our intuitions to make assumptions. If one is to apply this fairly, we need to use our background information about knowledge, power, and intent. The only experience we have with any of these is in the physical world. If we are to extend what we think is wonderful, delightful, interesting and significant about our existence as what god would also want, we need to extend what know about the hardware and software on which these perceptions operate. The only minds we have experience with are those in brains. Power, depending on how it is defined, is inherited (strength, intelligence), learned, or designed (such as a powerful device like a piece of machinery). Intent exists only in conscious beings, and our experience with consciousness is limited to beings that are alive and have attached heads (with brains inside).

The use of god as an explanation for fine-tuning is made to look simple by asking questions like, "Well, wouldn't an all good god have great reasons for creating wonderful creature such as us?" But this entails that even if he did, he would have the intent, power, and knowledge to bring a universe into existence and pre-program it with these delicate and massively improbable physical constants. Imagine what a human would need to know or build to accomplish such a task. As this is our only frame of reference, it gets sticky to start coming up with reasons why god would not have to do such things to accomplish the same task. Simply defining god outright as powerful by definition because that's what he would have to be seems unfavorable.

In the end, I personally have no answer for the why behind our existence. In my deconversion, I bit down on some hard potential truths. I had to deal with the fact that atheism might entail a life with no "ultimate purpose," or that morality might be only what humans defined it to be by consensus and enforcement, or that I had no answer to life's "deep" questions (I haven't come to the conclusion that these actually are entailed by atheism). This is one of those issues. I am here, alive. That much I can say. If science answers the question somehow, that would be fantastic. Even if it can't, however, it doesn't mean the above constitutes a good answer. Frankly, it all seems to take the form of "Look at this conundrum! Science doesn't know how to account for it. But god, with his desires that probably want things like us to be alive does account for it. Therefore god is the best explanation!" For now, I'd rather just not know.

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¹ See Victor Stenger's "Is The Universe Fine-Tuned For Us?" and Fred Adams' "Stars In Other Universes: Stellar structure with different fundamental constants". The Adams article is not freely available, however the probability he finds is mentioned in Wikipedia's article on fine-tuned universes.

The Agnostic Inquirer | Introduction

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This is part of a series of posts in response to "The Agnostic Inquirer" by Menssen & Sullivan.
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Having just finished two heavily philosophical apologetics books (this and Letters to a Doubting Thomas), I'll start by saying that the more I experience philosophy, the more I'm convinced I hate it. I don't think this is because I only took rudimentary courses in philosophy during college, either. I think it's because I'm less and less convinced that philosophy offers us much that even has a hope of intersecting with testable reality (much like theology, actually). In other words, after 331 pages of heady literature, I'm left wondering whether any of the conclusions drawn would lead to any noticeable differences in the world if they weren't true.

The case laid out by Menssen and Sullivan is as follows:

1) If it is not highly unlikely that a world-creator exists, then investigation of the contents of revelatory claims might well show it is probable that a good God exists and has revealed.
2) It is not highly unlikely that a world-creator exists
3) So, investigation of the content of a revelatory claim might well show it is probable that a good God exists and has revealed.
4) So, a negative conclusion concerning the existence of a good God is not justified unless the content of a reasonable number of leading revelatory claims has been seriously considered.

You might read that and think, "That's it?" Indeed, you would be correct to ask that. After trudging through this book, I think the same thing. Even if Menssen and Sullivan succeed, all they've shown is that one should add revelatory claims to the list of evidence to be considered. They don't list which revelatory claims, mind you; they simply make the case for including them in the apologetics arsenal. Perhaps I'm not as philosophically savvy as I need to be to realize if this is a massive leap in the land of apologetics, though.

From this outline, they spend a reasonable amount of energy on premise 2. To their credit, they handle a whole slew of possible objections to the possibility that god might exist, including:

• The world might have popped into existence
• The world might have caused itself
• Am immaterial minor cannot interact with the physical order
• There is no need to examine revelation due to the problem of evil
• No method exists for examining revelatory claims
• Revelatory claims lack explanatory power

That's essentially the book -- a defense of why one can't be an intellectually justified non-believer without examining revelatory claims. To be fair, they actually cover a fair bit of the traditional apologetic grounds in order to defend their premise that one can't outrightly dismiss revelation as having no value (such as their treatment of cosmology and the PoE). For this review, I'd like to comment on a few of their specific rebuttals above. Find these in separate posts that are part of this series.

Story (3 of 4)

This is part of a series in which I present a cumulative case for why I don't believe in god. The series index is here.

This particular post presents my personal story as background information and is one of three parts. Part 1 covered my early life through some of high school. Part 2 covered my first year at a Twelve Step boarding school. This post will present my initial conversion experience, and Part 4 will document my time at college and early years in marriage.
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When we left off, I had just made my second escape from the Family School. I was more determined than ever to never return. I stayed to the woods, which were much more friendly this time due to much of the snow having melted. On my first trip, I failed to mention that I passed by a cabin in the woods. My feet had been freezing at the time and, after knocking on the door to verify that no one was home, I rested on the porch for some time, trying to massage my feet into a warmer state. I came upon this cabin again. It seemed like someone's summer residence, as there were no tire tracks in the snow, no footprints, no sign of anyone living there. I knocked again just to be sure. From where I'm not exactly sure, but an idea arose in my mind. Rather than limit myself to the porch, I decided to break in. I heaved a rock through the basement window and crawled in. Unfortunately, I found the door to the upstairs locked. After trying various ways to get it open, I crawled back out and threw another rock through the living room window. I went in and began to explore. My main goal was to get drunk. I had been at the school for a year, was incredibly angry about my existence there, and think that in addition to simply feeling the effects of intoxication (to escape), I also wanted to do something that would "give a middle finger" to the school. As counter-intuitive as that seems, that's what was going through my mind. Somehow I concluded that I could exact some kind of emotional revenge by doing what they didn't want me to do.

In any case, I did find some alcohol. It was somewhat surreal. I actually found what I hoped for and it came time to decide whether I was really about to throw my year of sobriety down the drain. I did. I found a radio and listed to some classic rock for a while and then packed a bag with helpful supplies (extra socks, bread, water, alcohol) and left. I made it into town late that night and had no idea what to do. I walked all the way through the town (it only takes about 20min) and came up on a highway department site right before the on ramp to the highway. There were a lot of yellow service trucks there and several happened to be open. I slept there for the night, though it wasn't good sleep at all. It seemed I had traded less snow for colder temperatures. It was about 10F (according to the outside thermometer at a nearby bank), and my pained feet would wake me up after a short time and I'd have to pace around and stomp them to keep warm.

The next day I entered the town's diner and just sat there. I asked for water with no money to buy anything. They tend to know a runaway when they see one and, for whatever reason, take kindly to them. They gave me some coffee and a sandwich for no charge. I was warned that staff would be coming in throughout the day to look for me (like I said, they must have quite a lot of experience with runaways). This ended up happening later that afternoon. A staff and student came in and sat down on either side of me. They said I looked like crap and asked if I was ready to go back. I said I was and we walked out to the car. Just as we got to the car, though, I ran off again into the woods. I hid there until much later that night and then returned to the diner. I should mention that throughout this time I was drinking the alcohol I stole -- I was in somewhat of a perpetual buzz.

While in the restaurant, a younger gentleman came and sat down. It came up that I had run away from the school and he started expressing his distaste for it (it seems that quite a few of the townspeople don't like it, actually). In any case, he was quite kind to me and gave me some cigarettes. Somehow it came up that he had some pot and I asked if I could get high with him. He agreed and once the restaurant closed, we left together. We drove off somewhere and I got high. It was quite odd. I recall the feelings being very similar to how they had always felt, but at the same time would almost describe it as being able to watch myself with a more "mature mind," knowing full well that this was pointless and wrong. One other way to put it would be, perhaps, that I was unable to fully enter in to the experience -- a part of me was shaking it's head even as the other part was partaking.

I slept in another pickup that night, and returned to the diner the next day. Soon enough, a staff and two students came in, but this time not so cordially. I made a break for the back door but couldn't unlock it in time to get out. I was more or less seized and not released until I was in the back seat with a student on either side. Once we got back to the school, I contemplated making a break for it one more time, but in trying to decide if I could outrun everyone and whatever other micro-evaluations were going on... I lost my chance.

My face was red from the cold. I hadn't showered in a few days. I didn't have much sleep in me, either. I looked and felt like crap -- this was only intensified by having to face everyone who was still back at the school -- disappointed staff and students. It's like it all sinks in over several hours: shame, helplessness, some despair about ever leaving... It's an awful feeling. The repercussions for a second runaway are quite a bit more severe. My shoes were taken and I wore only shower flip flops (to reduce the likelihood of me gallivanting through the woods again), I was on "double shadow" (where two students have to monitor me all day, everyday), and most importantly, I was put onto what is known as "work sanction." Work sanction entails being temporarily suspended from classes to do work. This is typically done when someone is perhaps failing classes or so rebellious that they aren't putting any effort toward school anyway. There can be several aims: to punish you for not doing what you're supposed to, to "get the body working so the mind will follow", or to show you the pointlessness of your rebellion (e.g. a student may be made to clean rocks outside with a toothbrush all day and then just throw them back afterward). For the family group I was in, work sanctions were simply automatic after a second runaway attempt.

For a week and half, I would spend all morning in study hall to read AA literature, and I spent the afternoon paving a dirt road with pebbles. There was a huge pile of rocks and I would fill two 5 gallon pickle buckets with pebbles, carry them several hundred feet, and then dump them out on the dirt road to pave it. We did this for several hours every afternoon. I did this in flip flops. In February. Needless to say, you're quite tired at the end of the day. I was also in the corner and standing, which only added to the difficulty.

For whatever reason, I couldn't contain my secret anymore about the house. I confessed to having broken in. This brought about quite a lot of activity. I had to make a statement and be formally arrested for the crime (handcuffed and brought before a judge to be arraigned). I was informed that my charges were to be 3rd degree burglary, a felony, with the potential for a six year prison sentence. It was crushing news. It also began my conversion.

I want to spend a brief moment discussing my spiritual journey thus far in the story, which I've left out so far. Recall that I became Catholic in Part 1. The Family School had a parish priest who spent an immense amount of time and energy with the kids at the boarding school. He held confessions, talked to anyone who requested his time, said Mass on Wednesday mornings and Sunday evenings, and held retreats every single weekend for Family School kids. He was insanely generous and probably one of the most loving, caring, passionate, spiritually energetic, disciplined, wise, and kind men I've ever met. That statement stands regardless of whether we still line up on views about the supernatural realm. He was one of my heroes. During that first year, I did try to take the faith life more seriously. Despite becoming Catholic, religion was previously a way for me just to fit in and avoid feeling awkward. It really did start to become something I took interest in. The priest there helped that, and the immense spiritual/prayer focus of the school in general also inspired this. I tried praying sincerely and tried "living my life for god." I guess I don't recall if I had any sense of what that was or meant, but I tried nonetheless. I began having an awareness of god, at least, to the extent that I was "meta-aware" of when I did things I thought were probably not pleasing to him (saying something inappropriate or looking at a girl's butt or chest, for example).

Back to my conundrum. I would caution one from taking a simple "foxhole" categorization view of this event. I don't consider that my response to all of this was as simple as, "god, get me out of this and I'll never drink again." It was more than that. For the first time, I really had to admit that I had screwed myself purely for the sake of getting drunk. Yes, everything I put my parents through was horrible, but I think there was some degree of thinking that I wasn't "that bad" compared to others at the school, or that I never got any "real consequences" from my actions. Well, here it was. I had just done what I never would have thought I was capable of. I broke into a house to get drunk and now faced some incredibly serious charges. I should also mention that the Family School sends kids on a tour (kind of like Scared Straight) regularly and I had attended one of these tours a few months previous. Having seen a prison, I was fairly sure that I would never live through one. This brought about the realization that I had literally forfeit my life through my actions. I had some very intense times of prayer, and they weren't of the foxhole type -- they were simply an admission of complete powerlessness (I had literally put control of my life into someone else's hands) and an admission that god was god and I was not. I surrendered my life unto god (I would say this was, essentially, declaring my allegiance to live according to god's ways).

I went to court for my sentencing and received what's known as a Youthful Offender status: my felony was reduced to a misdemeanor and my record would be sealed and erased contingent on certain conditions such as completing my time successfully at the Family School and completing three years of probation (no drugs, good grades, attending AA meetings, etc.). Obviously this was quite the reprieve. I was overjoyed. I believed that god had given me a second (or nth) chance to live a good life. I devoted myself to god, to the twelve steps, and to a path of sobriety. I became even more devout and intent on being spiritually healthy and living a live pleasing to god. Despite still having to work out of some messes (still in the corner, on work sanction, and behind on school work), I couldn't have cared less. I would have done about anything. I regained trust fairly quickly -- others could see a real change and knew I meant it this time.

I finished out the rest of my time at the Family School and graduated in December of 2002. My parents were able to take me home to visit some colleges toward the end of that year, and I chose the University of St. Thomas (UST) in St. Paul, MN, primarily because of a charismatic Catholic community called Saint Paul's Outreach (SPO). One of the teachers at the Family School was a St. Thomas alum and was involved with SPO. They had houses around UST where Catholic students would live in order to grow in their faiths while at college. I had been away almost two years at this point and was a bit nervous about spreading my newfound sober wings at college. My sobriety and faith were more important than ever and these Catholic houses sounded like the perfect way to help foster both.

I wasn't set to start college until the fall of 2003, so I made the choice to stay and work as a staff member at the school from Jan 2003 - June 2003 instead of going home where staying sober might be a bit more difficult. This also was a way to "give back" to students. It can be a powerful message to see a graduate staying by his own free choice in a place one considers to be a precursor to hell. I shared my story and witnessed and tried to give other students hope. I was quite a role model for the students and I'm sure I provided the staff with hope as well. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the success rate for addicted kids isn't that great. It can do a lot of good for staff members, who spend their waking hours pouring their hearts out to help troubled kids, actually see fruit develop from their work. It was a great six months.

Thus ends another part of my saga. Continue on with my summer at home, my college years, and early marriage in Part 4.