Today was not a day for pushups

Time: 0:57:59
Distance: 3.34 miles
Music: Oh No by OK Go
Runkeeper Report

I was slower today on account of being sore and tired. You know how you’ll sleep poorly the night before a big event, or having to get up early? Even parts of my dreams included oversleeping and the relief that comes from missing an activity you didn’t particularly want to do anyways.

Out the door at 6 a.m. anyways, and the brilliance of the 7-minute method was proven quickly. It’s easy to get despondent during things like these–to slip into a mindset focused on the futility of it all.

What if I never lose weight?

What’s the point of this?

Is it worth the pain?

Why bother?

And then the six minutes pass and it’s time to jog. And I have to jog for sixty seconds. It doesn’t matter how I feel, that’s the system. So I jogged even though I didn’t feel like it. According to Runkeeper, I was only a little slower than yesterday (a difference of .02 miles per hour on average), and I’m hoping to get into the swing of things soon.

When I got home, I kneeled down on the floor to do a pushup. When I got onto my arms, though, I collapsed–my pectorals would have none of it.

C’est la vie.

What alignment is God?

Preface::

First, please don’t get turned off because I’m referencing some Dungeons & Dragons stuff at first. It’s not much, and you’ll be past it eventually.

Second, this post has been a long time coming. The matter has been on my mind for weeks if not months, and I’m still not settled on the matter. It’s a bit of a mind dump.

Third, because of that, I’d really like your consideration and input. Comment below and let me know what you’re thinking, even if you just agree or disagree. This is one of the theological subjects I’m really wrestling with and curious about right now.

Moving on::

For those of you who haven’t played D&D before, or maybe have only played the latest edition (the 4th), you may be unfamiliar with alignments. In general, there are two axes, as seen below.

The 3.5 edition of the Dungeons & Dragons Player’s Handbook lists nine alignments as options for a player character, because in addition to the four labels you see above, there is also Neutral. Someone might be Lawful Good or Chaotic Good, but they could also be Neutral Good, or Chaotic Neutral.

With that established, let’s talk a bit about God, Christianity, and myself. For my part, I have finally reached the conclusion that I am Lawful Neutral. This is kind of a Big Deal for me, mostly because it’s not what I expected. When I was younger, I liked to think of myself as Chaotic Good: I didn’t always follow the “rules,” and I didn’t always listen to “the man,” but I generally strove to do good things and help people. Robin Hood is Chaotic Good, as is Captain Malcolm Reynolds from Firefly.

When I was a kid, my heroes were the knights in shining armor from the fantasy stories I read, but I bucked authority a lot of the time. I didn’t care much about school or grades, or what my parents thought or wanted me to do. I tried to do good, but I did it my own way. Now, though, my outlook seems different. I don’t know if it is that I have changed, or if I was always this way but just idealized “Good” and strove for that… but it’s not me. I’m not Robin Hood. I’m not even Mal.

Lawful Neutral is generally referred to as the “Judge.” Wikipedia has a good definition of Lawful Neutral:

Characters of this alignment are neutral with regard to good and evil. This does not mean that Lawful Neutral characters are amoral or immoral, or do not have a moral compass; but simply that their moral considerations come a distant second to what their code, tradition or law dictates. They typically have a strong ethical code, but it is primarily guided by their system of belief, not by a commitment to good or evil.

In regards to D&D, you generally see Lawful Neutral characters on the side of Good, because Evil has a tendency to go against the law. The important point is motivation: where a Good aligned person would uphold Good for its own sake, a Lawful aligned person upholds it because it is the law. If a law is unjust or not “good,” someone who is Chaotic Good may choose to not uphold that law and will make their own code–a course of action that would be practically anathema to a Lawful Neutral person.

My work has forced me to the analyses of my own alignment and motivations because we do have some policies and ways of doing business that I don’t particularly like or agree with. Because it’s my job, though, I have to follow through regardless of my personal feelings… but I have found, over the last couple of years, that my personal feelings strongly uphold the following of these rules for the mere fact that they are the rules. I’m an INTJ, so inefficiency and poor work angers me, and within the bounds of the system I will do everything I can do improve matters, but as a Lawful Neutral, I have found that I won’t break the rules ((As the above linked definition of INTJ states, I will sometimes “implement critical decisions without consulting my [sic] supervisors or co-workers” and I have little respect for anyone I perceive to be slacking, even if they are higher ranked than me. But I don’t break any rules, which is the key.)) to do it. Not anymore, anyways.

So my first question becomes, “How does being Lawful Neutral square with being Christian?” Jonny and I were on our way to a conference a few weeks ago and the topic of alignments came up–we were discussing why certain things in our jobs have gone as they have, and I replied that I do what I do, how I do it, because I’m Lawful Neutral. He was surprised; a Christian should by default be Good, he said.

This really set me to thinking: if God is Good, then should all Christians be Good? The more I thought about the classical, humanistic definition of Good, though, the less God seemed to fit into the assumed alignment.

From Wikipedia:

Lawful Good is known as the “Saintly” or “Crusader” alignment. A Lawful Good character typically acts with compassion, and always with honor and a sense of duty. A Lawful Good nation would consist of a well-organized government that works for the benefit of its citizens. Lawful Good characters include righteous knights, paladins, and most dwarves. …

Lawful Good characters, especially paladins, may sometimes find themselves faced with the dilemma of whether to obey law or good when the two conflict – for example, upholding a sworn oath when it would lead innocents to come to harm – or conflicts between two orders, such as between their religious law and the law of the local ruler.

If God is Lawful Good, then, how do we account for the suffering we see in the world? For centuries philosophers and theologians have attempted to address the problem of pain in the world: why do bad things happen to good people; why do children die; why do natural disasters wipe out civilizations; do those who have never even heard of Jesus to go hell, etc. If God is all powerful and all Good, would He not then save these people? Why would He not wipe out all disease, death, and pain?

In short, the answer is generally, “Adam and Eve sinned and now we live in a fallen world.” When asked why God doesn’t just fix it, the answer is generally that God is either waiting for more people to be reconciled to Him through Christ, or that some other plan is at work. We, as Christians, work very hard to reconcile the existence of evil in the world with God’s goodness.

Before I was Christian, I believed strongly in the “rules” of this world. I believed that angels and demons, while powerful, were only able to interact with this world and shape its events within certain restrictions, and that the deities were likewise limited, not due to a lack of power but due to some cosmic agreement. At the time, I considered it a dualistic issue: the gods of Good and the gods of Evil had made an armistice to prevent the destruction of the world over which they fought. Skirmishes occurred, but outright war was avoided.

I no longer hold that dualistic view, but the more I think about the world and God’s interaction with it, the more I come back to the idea of there being some sort of cosmic rule at work, or a self-limitation by God. Jesus is a good example of this: we uphold that he was entirely human and entirely God, yet there seemed to be times when he didn’t know exactly what would happen next, and he went so far as to ask that the suffering to come be put away from him. In taking on mortal flesh, limitations were put in place, and since I do affirm that God is all powerful, I can only conclude that these limitations were self-imposed to provide a better teaching example to Christians. ((Or for some other reason–the conclusion stands regardless.))

What if God was closer to Lawful Neutral than Lawful Good? Our concept of Lawful Good is someone who protects the innocent without hesitation, works and fights always on the side of Good, does whatever he or she can to protect and benefit others. I don’t propose the Deistic concept of a clockmaker God, who set the world into motion and then stepped back to watch silently, but I do perceive restraint that contradicts what we think Lawful Good should be. Could a Lawful Good deity who was all powerful watch as Haiti was torn apart and innocent children died in the streets? Could a Lawful Good deity sanction the genocide in Darfur or the ongoing civil wars in Sri Lanka and the Congo? We wonder at the horrors inflicted upon the Hebrews in the Hebrew Bible, and it is hard to reconcile them with our concept of a Lawful Good God, but they make more sense if we consider God to be Lawful Neutral, a God who has made certain laws that must be upheld.

By this, I do not mean that God is not generally good, but I do question our concept and the assumptions we make about God’s goodness. If you ask me, “Is God compassionate?” I will reply, “Yes, yes, God is compassionate.” And if you ask if God is forgiving, I will say, “Yes, yes, God is forgiving.” He is kind and loving and awesome. But if you ask, “Is God good?” I will wonder at your definition of “good.” If by good you mean that God is our servant and sworn benefactor, I say no, God is not these things.

We assume that actions follow nature, and so if God is compassionate, He must act upon that compassion. Likewise, too many look upon suffering and conclude that God must therefore not be compassionate, and since the Bible teaches of God’s compassion, many take it a step further and conclude that there is no God. These conclusions do not follow; God can be compassionate without always acting upon that compassion.

Let us consider Jesus who, as I referred to earlier, displayed adherence to the rules (if such do exist) throughout the gospels. There are numerous stories of Jesus healing someone, but he heals relatively few of the people around him. In one such story, Jesus actually delves into a great crowd of the ill and infirm, and finding a particular man at the center, asks him if he wants to be healed. ((John 5:1-18)) The man states that he has been seeking healing but has been unable to find it, and Jesus heals him.

Why does he heal no one else in all that crowd? Why pick that one man out? Some have wondered whether the issue is that Jesus’s power is limited, using Luke 8:40-48 as indication that he not only had limited power but the use of that power depleted his reserves. What if, instead, Jesus was limited by a set of self-imposed rules, a guiding plan, and was loathe to deviate from that course? The man at the well was healed for some purpose, and we can only conclude that an all powerful God would not heal those He didn’t want to heal, so Jesus must likewise have had some reason to heal the woman who touched his cloak (though he seems surprised when the event occurs).

Perhaps Jesus only healed those who would have the greatest impact on his mission–it certainly makes sense in a Lawful Neutral way. I wonder as well about the mystery of faith. In Luke 8, Jesus states that the woman’s faith has healed her, and it seems to me like that gives us a clue in itself. No one healed by Jesus is recorded as temporizing or rationalizing away the miracle, but I have seen miracles occur to people who have done just this. I believe that, in the stories recorded in the gospels, those healed had the faith to believe, and subsequently they kept that belief. I might conclude, then, that faith is one of the components necessary for a miracle. ((As Jesus himself seemed to state in Matthew 17:20.))

We have read that the door to heaven is narrow and few will enter, ((Luke 13:22-27)) but we all believe we will be part of that few. Just as I questioned our definition of “good” above, I question as well our concept of “faith.” How many Christians in the Church are there because they want something, rather than because of their faith? What they want might be all good things: to serve others, to join a community of like-minded individuals, to find belonging or love, to find peace or healing, etc. But how many are involved in the community of Christians purely because they believe in Jesus and the truth of the Bible? All those good things follow faith, but I wonder for how many faith is the primary motivator and factor.

It would be Lawful Good for God to let everyone into heaven. He indicates in Luke 13 that this is not the case. One could argue, though, that the “Lawful” balances the “Good,” and that God is indeed Lawful Good in this respect: God wants everyone to enter heaven (Good), but must turn away sinners (Lawful).

Back to the earlier question, rephrased, I ask, “If we consider God to be Lawful, then who’s law?” The previous paragraph feels more like temporizing to me. ((To be honest, I’ve reached the same conclusion in regards to Calvinism as a whole.)) I feel like we’re attempting to cram God into the Lawful Good alignment because we want to believe that God has our individual best interests at heart and will always take care of us. In looking at the world and at the Bible, particularly in light of the verses above (as well as countless others I’m not relating here because I don’t feel like taking the time to look them up right now), that conclusion just doesn’t seem to fit. It seems more like God has created a world and an order and we have deviated from it. It is now our job to get back in line, and God has aided us in that by providing the sacrifice of Jesus. We still have to accept that sacrifice ((A la Arminianism)) and follow God faithfully to get back within the boundaries accorded by the cosmic rules.

I’ve got another branch of thoughts on this topic brought up by the book I’m reading, but I’ll end the mind dump here because those veer off into spiritual warfare territory. If you’ve made it this far, thanks for sticking with it, and please comment to share what you’re thinking. I’d really like to read it.

Fantasy Fiction Ruts

I am a big proponent of adhering to certain aspects of The Lore. There are certain facets of fantasy fiction that are established and foundational, like that elves live long lives and have pointed ears, or that dwarves like gold and gems and to mine. Once you make an elf who has a beard and prefers mining, you no longer have an elf. What DnD4 did to Tieflings annoys me quite a bit for this reason–they completely changed the race–so I try to avoid such things.

However, I also think it a bit ludicrous when fantasy races completely buy into the established stereotypes. There is a certain baseline to which we should adhere, but it shouldn’t stifle our creativity. For instance, there are two traditionally accepted and expected versions of halflings. One is Tolkein’s hobbit, which is somewhat lazy, extremely conservative, enjoys smoking and drinking ale, and dislikes adventure in the extreme. On the other end of the spectrum are Weis’s and Hickman’s kender, who are struck by wanderlust at a young age and don’t understand the concept of “personal possessions.” Halflings are known to be lucky, curious, good-natured, friendly… but usually, they fall under one of these two templates.

Dungeons & Dragons Second Edition gave me an idea back in the day, and it’s one I want to explore further in my own writing. I haven’t quite figured out how they should act, but I want to spend a lot of time with halflings. My concept is to take Tolkein’s halflings, but then place them in a location where they are nearly constantly under attack. What would halfling culture look like in a militaristic setting? How would their government be organized? How would they comport themselves?

I’m beginning to consider this, and I suspect they will develop as I go along. Perhaps, after the initial fumbling around, I’ll begin a new story arc focusing on a halfling hero where I can delve into their culture more in-depth. We’ll see. In the meantime, check out Ride of the Halflings ((Yeah, sorry, I took this blog down, so you can’t read this online anymore. I guess… too bad?)) , Arias’s first introduction to the Halfling Homeguard.

I just don’t want to get into a rut and fail to create something. There’s a certain amount of borrowing that’s unavoidable, as even Uncle Tas would admit, but there’s no excuse for lazy thinking and lazy writing. It’s important that your readers have an idea of what to expect; that there are certain rules and guidelines within which they can understand the story. But it’s boring to read the same old thing yet again. I want to take the old and make it new, different, and exciting.