I posted something on my Facebook in response to the Charlottesville situation which generated some controversy. Apparently when I advocated for moderate and liberal Americans everywhere to arm themselves in the face of neo-Nazi hate, that was a little far for some people's taste. Since I have a platform of my own, I'd like to better explain myself.

I have made the case for violence before, but never in response to the actions of other Americans. In those past posts, I made it clear that we as Christians have a responsibility to live at peace with others as far as possible, but also that there are certain evil elements in this world who simply will not be reasoned with under any circumstances. I would not have joined the military and served honorably for almost ten years if I truly believed that the Gospel required us to be pacifists.

We are blessed and fortunate to live in a country where the rule of law is generally extremely strong, and acts of wanton evil are sporadic and highly localized. In other parts of the world where bands of evil men roam more freely, the task often falls to the US military to intervene on behalf of those who can't protect themselves. Here, we trust our valued members of law enforcement to handle that task for us. The cases in which a person might have to exercise their Second Amendment rights in defense of their own life or the life of an immediate bystander are pretty rare.

Nevertheless, there are elements of people within this great country of ours who prey on the defenselessness of others. Whether we're talking about violent inner city gangs, or the thugs this weekend who wore body armor and swung billy clubs at the elderly and women, there are always going to be people who use the threat of violence as a means of intimidation and coercion against those who are less capable of defending themselves.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a very congenial person who can hardly be described as a fighter. My stance on the use of force has always been that it should be a last resort...but it is unequivocally an option when faced with unrepentant evil. I would like to believe that if a band of men wearing SS uniforms and riot gear were doing violence to someone simply on the basis of the color of their skin, I would try my absolute best to at least de-escalate and at worst outright resist them before they harmed someone. Isaiah 1 is the beginning of a long indictment of the people of Israel for their neglect of the Lord's commands. It reads, in part:

In my mind, this is a pretty clear mandate to stick up for those who can't defend themselves.

For those who haven't heard (and I can't imagine who that would be), I've been accepted to Georgetown University for a Linguistics major. I've been furiously preparing for the last few months to get out of the Navy early and hopefully start school in the fall, Lord willing. To say that I feel a little out of my depth is an understatement. I'm dealing with a wicked case of impostor syndrome these days, feeling as if at any moment people will realize that someone has inadvertently allowed a drooling neanderthal to run loose around the campus. While the rational part of me knows that that's an extremely unfair assessment of my own abilities, it does virtually nothing to diminish the anxiety that comes with matriculating at an institution with such a sterling reputation.

Sitting down with a Dean yesterday to talk about my course selections for the coming semester was an amazing experience. He not only reassured me that I belong here, but also opined that I would likely fare much better than many of the students there who were valedictorians and 5.0 GPA scholars at their high schools. This was because, and I quote him, "some of these kids will probably fall to pieces when they see their first B. You've faced adversity before, and you've no doubt overcome a lot in your Navy career." Brother, you have no idea.

I have been through more harrowing moments in the last ten years than I could possibly recount in one blog post. Some of them were very physical, like getting a stress fracture in boot camp and being told I'd have to convalesce for six weeks before I could graduate (I got out after four weeks), others were extremely intellectual, like DLI. Some were emotional, like being told by my entire chain of command that I'm a failure, despite knowing that most of their accusations were wildly exaggerated. All of this, it seems, was part of God's master plan that I knew nothing about the day I signed the line back in San Diego.

I have traveled the world on the Navy's dime. I have met fascinating people all over the world and had the opportunity to use my language skills to do some downright-awesome stuff. Never in all my travels and struggles did I imagine that this next chapter was a possibility.

I'm very much reminded of the ancient seafaring maps with large blank spaces at the edge which read, "here be dragons." In their limited understanding of the world back then, it only made sense that if one sailed too far from home they would simply fall right off the face of the earth. Now as then, it's time for me to expand my horizons. This endeavor will require all of my abilities, and I'm quite frightened of the possibility that my best efforts might simply not be good enough (it wouldn't be the first time). Nevertheless, I serve a good God.

I'm reminded of the song "Oceans," by Hillsong. Though it's been playing on the radio for years, it still grabs me whenever I hear it, because it reminds me that there is much in this life which God has called us to do, knowing full well that we are in no way qualified to do it. He specializes in this sort of thing, to be honest. Just ask men like Gideon, Jonah, or King David. "Why me?" they all asked, "I am literally a nobody." Fortunately, God plus a nobody equals something he can use.

I leave you with this video, recorded by Hillsong at the actual Sea of Galilee. It reminds me that, when God calls you to get out of the boat, the best thing you can do is trust him and move.

For those who've noticed my absence, I'm finally back on Facebook. I shut it off at the start of March because I was preparing to go through some intense Navy training (SERE school, for those who are familiar) which required a certain amount of anonymity. After I graduated, lent had already begun, so I figured I'd just give up social media as an appropriate self-denial until Easter.

Now that I've been off of social media for over six weeks, it surprises me just how much time I was wasting on scrolling through my news feed.

During these past six weeks, I also had another opportunity to deploy for a very short time. This is of special note to me, because about a year ago I was essentially told that my deployment days were over. Due to circumstances I'd prefer not to elaborate on, my career had essentially been sidelined by the higher ups at work, so to be given even this short chance to get out and do operations again was a very welcome surprise.

I also crammed for a ham radio license exam and got my license right before I left. That was pretty exciting, considering I had almost no interest in ham radio up until a few weeks ago when I bought some nice walkie-talkies which it turns out I couldn't operate without a license. After just a couple days of intense study, I took and passed the 35-question exam on my first try (I got 34 right, no big deal).

As you can also see, I have once again taken the time to sit down and write something on my badly-neglected blog. I've spent so much time doing random things with my free time that I almost forgot what it was like to be intentional about sitting down to write, even when you have virtually nothing to say.

One thing I can say is this, after spending Holy Week in a very austere environment where I had a lot of time to read the Word and focus on God, it seems appropriate that I use the occasion of Christ's resurrection to celebrate some personal resurrections in my own life, most notably my operational career. Though I have firmly decided that the Navy is not for me anymore, I am still grateful for every opportunity to get out there and do some work that may hopefully result in a little more security for our nation. If nothing else, I got to travel to some cool places and meet some interesting people.

That's all for now. If you missed my updated pictures, be sure to check out the splash page on this blog for a few updated photos from my most recent trip abroad.

Hope to be blogging again someday soon, with God's continued inspiration and grace.

I hope everyone had a wonderful day celebrating the birth of our Lord and Savior yesterday. I spent my first Christmas voluntarily separated from my family, and it was at once both a great blessing and a very trying ordeal. Fortunately, I have some wonderful family and friends in this area who helped me to mark the holiday with all the love and cheer in the world. Despite that though, I've spent the last few days and weeks wondering whether I was doing the right thing by denying my family back home the right to spend Christmas with their whole family.

The truth is, times and seasons change in life. We can all think of one major event or another that we missed with our family, whether because of work  (or in my case two deployments), or school, or financial limitations, or any other reason; there are always times in life when we wish we could be someplace else.

​After all the trials and tribulations of the last few years, I'm learning to love more than ever the simple and mundane joy of just being where you are. Too often in life we wish away days, weeks, or even entire multi-year seasons of our lives simply because we think that later on will bring us more joy and happiness. The thing about time is, it never comes back to you, no matter how you spend it.

I made a conscious choice after some of the recent calamities in my life to be more intentional about enjoying the moments as they come, because God knows I could always be someplace worse. This holiday season, I just want to encourage all of you to be present where you are, because every moment in this life is an unrepeatable miracle which you can never get back.

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. -Phil. 4:12-13

Live in the moment, love where you are, and thank God for everything you have.

​That's all.

I had the great privilege to be asked by our young adults pastor to preach the message this past Sunday during the Young Career Fellowship (YCF) bible study. YCF has been a wonderful part of my life since I started calling 4th Presbyterian Church home. We're currently on a semester-long read through the Westmisnter Confession of Faith, which was written by a group of Reformed theologians in the 1600s to establish the foundational doctrines of the Reformed movement in England. This week, I was speaking on Chapter 15 of the confession, titled "Of Repentance Unto Life."

​Here follow my sermon notes:

So yeah, I didn't watch the debate last night, and could only successfully stomach about five total minutes of the previous one. Fortunately, my absentee ballot for California has already been mailed in, and neither one of these two abominations got my vote. This entire election season has proved that our democratic process is more or less a joke, from the systematic blackballing of Bernie Sanders to the never-ending train of national embarrassment which flows from the mouth of the other one, this election has proven more or less beyond a doubt that polemical rhetoric and money triumph over substance and principle in modern America.

I've written several articles in the past about the occasional necessity for open and violent conflict, even in the life of a Bible-believing Christian. Today, for a slight change of pace, I'd like to share a Japanese parable that recently blew my mind upon reading it for the first time. It is the legend of two real-life Japanese swordsmiths by the names of Masamune and Muramasa. Both of these men actually lived, and Masamune's legendary status as the greatest sword maker in all of Japan is well established. The rather fantastical tale of just how Masamune came to be known as the greater of the two swordmakers is something that I'd like to share today.

According to the legend, Masamune was a well-established swordmaker of the late 13th and early 14th century in Japan. His reputation for making exquisitely useful and effective blades was beyond reproach, except by one other master craftsman, his pupil (according to the story, though in real life they were  not contemporaries) named Muramasa. Muramasa decided one day to challenge his master to a swordmaking competition to see who in fact was the better craftsman, since both created blades that were highly sought after. Masamune agreed, and they both went away to spend many weeks and months constructing their greatest sword ever.

When the time came to present them, the men agreed to have their competition judged by the wisest monk in all of Japan. Standing beside a river, the two men decided to take turns lowering their sword into the water, to see how cleanly they would cut things that flowed downstream. Masamune chose to allow his pupil to go first. Muramasa gladly accepted, and proudly drew his sword, which he announced was named 10,000 Cold Nights, for the time he had spent crafting it. Muramasa's sword, to the amazement of all the onlookers, was easily able to cut not only the leaves, fish, and even logs that floated down the stream with ease, but even the water itself seemed to part, and the wind hissed as the blade cut through its passing breeze. Everyone nodded in amazement.

Masamune went second, and announced as he drew his blade that its name was Gentle Hands. Lowering his creation into the water, people again watched with awe as it sliced through leaves and logs, but to everyone's surprise the fish of the river simply swam up to it, touched its blade, and then swam heedlessly around it. Likewise the water did not part for it, and the wind passed gently and calmly over its exposed edge. Upon witnessing this, Masamune's competitor began to laugh and deride him for being the supposed "master" whose blade couldn't cut even half as well as his own.

At this point, their judge stepped forward. The grey, wizened face of the monk looked calmly back and forth between the two men, and then surveyed the crowd with kind amusement before he spoke.

"I'm sure we can all agree that Muramasa has made an excellent blade. Muramasa's blade has cut through leaves, logs, fish, and even the water and the air." Everyone nodded in agreement while Muramasa smirked.

"However," the monk continued, "what I see in his blade is not good, because it is a bloodthirsty blade." He said sternly, "not only does it cut the leaves and logs, but it also cuts the fish, the water, and the air. His blade is indiscriminate, and would be just as comfortable severing heads as it would be chopping down trees." At this, Muramasa became indignant.

"Meanwhile," the monk continued, "Masamune's blade has proved itself as being perfectly capable of cutting the leaves and the logs, yet it allows the fish, the water, and the air to pass harmlessly by it. Although it could easily cut down a grown tree, it restrains itself from killing the smallest fish. His blade knows the value of life. His blade shows discretion." At last, Masamune began to smile.

"Therefore," the monk concluded, "I judge that Masamune's blade is truly the better sword, for though his craft gives him the skill to make a weapon of pure destruction, he has chosen to temper his blade the knowledge of restraint."

From that day onward, both Masamune and Muramasa continued to be known as the two greatest swordsmiths in all of Japan. Yet forever afterwards, it would be Masamune who was remembered as the greatest master in all of Japanese history, for his craft was tempered with wisdom.

Why do I do it? Why do I sit here trying to force myself to write something, when I'd much rather be sitting in my armchair with a book, or laying in bed? I'm 90% sure that whatever I type won't even be read, except by a tiny handful of people, so why even sit here burning hours that could be just as easily spent on myself?

It's because I have to. My sanity literally depends on my ability to write and express my thoughts, with the hope that others may someday read and understand them, but ultimately for no other reason than because I find it helpful. If you're tuning in, then thanks for your time. I write these things on the internet because I genuinely have no idea who may read them, but I trust God that someone somewhere will find it helpful.

I've been noticeably absent from social media and internet outlets for the last few months. Part of that is because of the Navy, which as always seeks to make incessant and at times wildly unreasonable demands on my time, and part of it is because I simply haven't had any desire to comment on the incessant stream of depressing news headlines which we've all come to take for granted in these strange times.

Today I'd like to talk to you about an utterance from the book of Job which has probably starred in many a sermon about suffering. The famous phrase of Job 13:15, "though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." has often been taken as a sign on Job's great and unshakable faith in God's goodness despite his outwardly horrible circumstances. In reality, like Jeremiah 29:11 and many other seemingly rosy quotes pulled at random from the pages of scripture, this one too gets frequently abused when taken out of context.

You see, even though on the surface of things Job is making a bold declaration of his faith in God, (v.16 goes on to say, "indeed, this will turn out for my deliverance"), we have to remember that the wider context is his indignant rant at God about the injustice of his suffering. He goes on in verse 22 to demand a direct conversation with God himself (careful what you wish for, Job) so that he can plead the case for his innocence. What Job fails to comprehend throughout this entire story is that, despite all of his righteous acts throughout the course of his life, he is still not exempt from God's divine prerogative to do whatever he dang well pleases.

Some might argue that this makes our God out to be as capricious and untrustworthy as any mythical god of the Ancient Greeks. If he can choose to allow Satan to have his way with his beloved children for no other reason than to win a wager, how can we possibly trust that such a God is truly good? It's a question as old as the Bible itself. How can a good God allow bad things to happen to good people? ​We're all quick to offer platitudes about the perfect plan of God, but if you've ever been in Job's position, it's a little tough to blame him for being somewhat indignant at the seemingly arbitrary nature of his suffering.

I really need to say a special thank you to my friend Sydnie, since she sent me an awesome book while I was away on deployment about the Peloponnesian War. I'm still working my way through it, but at over halfway through I can pretty confidently say at this point that it's one of the best books I've read since my last deployment, when I read the Eric Metaxas biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Quite interestingly, both of these books pertain to what I intend to discuss; namely, the concept of standing on one's principles.

The Peloponnesian War, for those who are unfamiliar, was the last great war of Classical Greece, fought between Athens and Sparta and their various allies from 431 to 404 BC. It came only fifty years after a united Greece had turned away the Second Persian invasion of King Xerxes, made famous by the movie "300". Whereas the former Greek allies had first held the Persians in a dramatic standoff at the Battle of Thermopylae, and then finally defeated the "god-king" at the battle of Plataea, now after thirty years of unbroken peace the former allies found themselves bitter rivals fighting a long, vicious war for control of Greece. It was the last great war because it reduced both sides after thirty years of hard fighting to devastated shells of their former selves, and paved the way for the Macedonian invasion which gave rise to the empire of Alexander the Great (and eventually along came the Romans).

What does that have to do with Orlando and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, you ask? First of all, you should know that Dietrich Bonhoeffer attended Tubingen university in the early 1920s, where he joined a fraternity called the Hedgehogs. The name was a reference to a well-known literary quotation from the Classical Greek poet Archilochus, who coined the expression, "the fox knows many tricks, but the hedgehog knows one good one."

Deployment number two is now in the books. Overall, I'd say I'm pretty happy with our successes out there. Unfortunately, now the Navy is once again up to its old tricks. Now that I'm home, they won't just let me take leave, partly because of some things I've legitimately done wrong, and partly because they have a singular talent for drastically overreacting to and over-complicating an otherwise easily-fixable problem. I'm not really at liberty to say any more at the moment.

This time around, I'm at least happy to report that my time was not ill-spent on the other side of the globe. I've written at least twice about the occasional need to make sure that bad people die, and without saying too much I will say that at least a couple hundred bad people did in fact perish during the months that I was gone.

I also had more time to read On Killing, by Dave Grossman. I didn't finish it in its entirety due to the long working hours over there and my perpetual desire for more sleep, however I did get far enough into it that I feel I should clarify my earlier statement about Lt. Col. Grossman's overall intent in writing the book: I stated that Dave makes the case for violence, when really he's making the case that most men abhor the idea of killing another human being, even in a combat situation where one's life could depend on it. Dave asserts (although I'm still somewhat skeptical) that only ten to fifteen percent of men in frontline combat throughout the history of modern warfare were actually attempting to kill their enemy, while the other eighty-five or so percent were simply posturing or firing over the enemy's head due to their extreme aversion to violence.

I think it's fair and reasonable to say that most people abhor the idea of killing another human being. I for one am very grateful that I've never personally had to make the decision to pull a trigger or push a button to end someone's life. Nevertheless, the work that I did over there gave me some unique insights into the process for ending the lives of bad people who intend to do harm to the US and its allies. On more than one occasion, I did personally pray to God that he would grant us success in taking an evil man's life, and it is with a very somber heart that I still reflect on those prayers, even now knowing the good that was brought about by them.

We live in a fairy tale world here in America, where everyone believes that humans are fundamentally good and that violence is only carried out by a select few sociopaths who failed to properly integrate into our generally peaceful and enlightened society. This assumption could not be further from the truth. Having met humans from all over the world, from diverse cultural and socio-economic backgrounds, I can say with relatively good authority that a person can only be as peaceful and as "good" as their environment allows them to be, unless they are willing to die young. In a society where the economy is strong and law and order is prevalent, it's easy to assume that only bad people would reject honest means of acquiring wealth.

The reason why people in the third world view life as cheap and violence as a sometimes daily necessity is because they literally have no alternative means to acquire the basic necessities of life. In a world where the rule of law is shaky at best and the only means to acquire food is to steal it, most people have no problem picking up a weapon and pointing it at someone else. When Al-Shabaab, ISIS, Al-Qaeda, or any other terrorist organization is offering you two hundred dollars a month to kill infidels, and the average wage for honest work amounts to less than fifty cents a day, it's not difficult to see why people choose violence as a way of life. That doesn't make it excusable, it simply is what it is.

Someone with an incisive intellect might say, "how can you be so blasé about killing others, especially when you've just stated that poverty, and not terror or extremism, is the leading cause of these people's willingness to do evil?" To that person I would respond that poverty might be the initial impetus for people to do extreme things, but I believe that every human being possesses a fundamental understanding of right and wrong, and those who choose to do wrong, regardless of their justifications, must be willing to accept the consequences for the life they've chosen.

Ultimately it doesn't matter why they chose to try to kill my friends and fellow Americans, the simple fact is that I'm going to use all means at my disposal to stop them from doing it. We can argue about American foreign policy until Kingdom come, but all I care about at the moment of conflict is the men and women I serve with, and I will do what it takes to make sure that they come home to see their loved ones.

In the end, we can only thank our merciful God that we were born in a place where we currently don't have to make such decisions on a daily basis. If the time ever came when violence became widespread or visited us personally, I pray first of all that you will be spared from danger. Yet for those of us who bear a certain sense of responsibility for the safety and well-being of others, I pray that you will soberly examine yourself to determine that your motives are pure and peace-loving, and I pray afterwards that God will give you the courage to overcome your enemies by his might and for his glory.