Skeptical about Skepticism

Does it Work?

The use of Skepticism as a tool is a prudent decision (or is it?), but Pragmatism's use of 'what works' is a much more viable and productive method in fulfilling the Skeptic's claim to be ever searching for truth.

Mortimer J. Adler, in his classic work How to Read a Book, after laying out the guidelines for effective, in-depth reading, ends the process with critiquing a work. The thing to note is that he states very clearly (on multiple occasions) that one should not pass any judgment whatsoever concerning the author's ideas until the entire book has been devoured and the ideas have been fully understood as the author intended for them to be understood (chapter 10). The concept is, how can you say you agree or disagree with something until you've grasped what that something is? Until the entire work is fully understood and one is able to (Adler would say 'obliged to') state whether one agrees or disagrees, the appropriate thing to do is to suspend judgment (which is also a viable 'critique', after attaining comprehension [chapter 11]). And we have now tapped into the Skeptic’s stance in life.

This permanent marker looks rectangular from one angle and circular from another. So which is it, what is its nature? When I'm sick my food tastes different then when I'm not. What is the nature of the food's taste? Red looks red to me, but what is the nature of 'red'--is it C# to you (Dr. Monast's idea, which is much cooler than saying 'my red or your blue')? None of these questions have a conclusive answer, for the thing judged is dependent on the one doing the judging who can only be a biased judge, that is, as someone within the situation. I can never experience your red, I can't experience something's taste outside of my tasting it when I'm either sick or healthy and I can only ever see the marker from angles within my three-dimensional perspective, with my eyes, in the visible light spectrum.

Concerning intangible things, as an example, an idea that was previously held as corresponding to reality ('the earth is the center of the universe') is now seen to be false; how do we know what we see as having correspondence now will not later? The scale of proof concerning God's existence versus nonexistence is equally balanced--for every point one side makes, the other finds a counter--; can I say God is or isn't real? In Adler's terms, since I don't 'fully understand the idea' of the nature of said things, I am obliged to continue to withhold judgment.

Sextus Empiricus claims to be, as a Skeptic, on the continuing search for truth (Outlines of Pyrrhonism [hereafter OP] 375), and repeats repeatedly (with repetitions) that his interest is the attainment of ataraxia, tranquility of mind, imperturbability of soul (OP 376). His view is that if someone takes a firm stance philosophically, they are bound to fearful running from 'evil' things and desperate clinging on to 'good' things (OP 378). But if it can be shown that we don't actually have the intellectual license to assent (or dissent) to something, that nothing can be said to be inherently 'good' or 'evil', true or false, then we can be at peace with the way things appear to be and what we have (speaking, of course, more broadly then just physical possessions); be at peace with knowing that we don't know (hello, Socrates).

To be skeptical is a wise thing; it would behoove us if we were more skeptical in our lives, not just taking for granted the things we see or are told. Take, for example, the taboo that is the study of philosophy in the Evangelical Christian world. If I had let what I had grown up hearing be my truth, I would not be doing the thing that is most natural for me to be doing. If I had not had an open mind when I came across a more accurate description of philosophy, I would have been letting propagated, uninformed opinions (redundant?) keep me from being me. The Skeptic, though, doesn't just use doubt as a tool. He makes it a way of life.

So how does a Skeptic live this life of epoche, of constant suspension of judgment? We've already demonstrated it--if a thing or idea can be shown to have an equally credible, contradictory thing or idea, then epoche!, both stances are now equally incredible (OP 376). Empiricus unfolds ten ways to find a contradiction, but the long and short of it is to either find a counter-example or show that a thing is only understood within the situation in which it is being evaluated, rendering its objective nature incomprehensible (OP 378-90). Our previous examples will suffice.

All of this sounds very Pragmatic--there is no absolute truth, or at least, if there is, there's no way that we can know we have found it (this statement itself not being absolute [OP 376, cf. William James' Conception of Truth {hereafter CT}]). But upon closer inspection, it can be seen that, while similar, Pragmatism is more effective in stimulating the search for truth, using 'what works,' whereas Skepticism tends to squelch it, more like a quest of doubt resulting in the cessation of intellectual inquiry. The two will be compared and contrasted in light of certain of Pragmatism's categories, or underlying principles.

Before we begin, what does the Pragmatist mean by 'what works'? 'Truth' is what works to satisfy desires (CT). That is a loaded statement that needs a lot of unpacking, which is beyond the scope of this piece, but the summation is if an idea has a practical application for the end which I seek, then that idea is a true one. Let us look at William James's hypothetical example of a man chasing a squirrel around a tree. Both creatures run around the tree in such a way as to never see each other. Does the man run around the squirrel as he runs around the tree? It depends. If you desire the man to have run north, east, south and west of the squirrel, then yes, it works to say he ran around the squirrel. If you desire the man to have run around the head, back, tail and stomach of the squirrel, then no, your desire is not satisfied, for he was always positioned in line with the squirrel’s belly. It doesn't work to say the man ran around the squirrel (What Pragmatism Means [hereafter PM]).

As was previously mentioned, both philosophies hold to the nigh infallibility of fallibilism (we can always be wrong) and, with that, the constant evolution of ideas (I daren't say knowledge), that is, 'truth' has always--and will ever--change (OP 378-9). What we 'know' today is outdated tomorrow, as we've seen in the realm of mathematics, natural science and of technology for the last couple of hundred years, even as recently as yesterday. What we were sure could never happen turns out to be commonplace, or what everyone is so sure to have happened, never actually did (take 'bra burning,' for example [[reference??]]). The difference is in what each philosophy does with both of these concepts. The Pragmatist will use what works while it works, holding on loosely, letting the currently held view of reality be his springboard into better understanding (CT), while the Skeptic, knowing that what he knows isn't really and can't be known, won't use it. He will spend his mental energies finding a way to discredit what is before him, he will catalyze the process of obsolescence without looking for a practical alternative; any alternative theories will be regarded just long enough to be disregarded. He will let appearances, i.e., what he experiences, end deeper inquiry—extinction, versus evolution. We're touching on the idea of radical empiricism, but we will hold off on a full analysis for the time being.


Both philosophies take the social standard into consideration in regards to how they conduct their lives. The Skeptic 'follow[s] a certain rationale that, in accord with appearances, points us towards a life in conformity with the customs of our country and its laws and institutions, and with our own particular pathe' (OP 377, emphasis added). The Pragmatist also binds his view of what works within the confines of the society in which he finds himself, that is, his idea of truth must cohere with what is the entire stock of truth held by the society (PM). Pluralism is at work, and not a relativistic 'I decide on my own what works and what doesn't.' Some instances may help. Neither a Skeptic nor a Pragmatist would, in the United States, walk around town in the nude, for that behavior is outside our culture’s standard of acceptable attire (though, if I understand correctly, a Cynic would have no problem with it). The Pragmatist would go one step further than mere conduct with his pluralism and say, e.g., that the world is not flat because science, mathematics and transportation technology have evolved our stock of truth; we know as a first world, at-least-in-theory educated country, that the world is round (though it can work to say, in limited, practical circumstances that the world is flat and not round—a flexibility that Skepticism doesn’t have [it would make no claim either way]).

While pluralism is important, relativity does have its part to play. William James introduces the Fringe in his Streams of Consciousness (hereafter SC). The Fringe is the sum total of all of one's interconnected experiences, mental and physical. I was raised by my family, with their ideals, in California, and I have learned all the things I've learned and have done or have had happen to me all the things that have occurred in my life. No one else can say they have had all the same experiences and thoughts as me, so no one can see the world exactly as I see it. Because I see the world how I see it, what I desire isn’t necessarily what you desire and, with that, what works for me doesn't necessarily work for you. It doesn't work for me to play video games all day, every day; I would spend my life doing something more intellectually or relationally significant. For the guys at my place of employment playing video games works. Empiricus also takes personal perspective into account when he says, 'But in putting forward these [seemingly, but non-dogmatic] slogans [e.g., "Nothing is true"] he is saying what seems to him to be the case and is reporting his pathos without belief, not firmly maintaining anything concerning what exists externally' (OP 376, emphasis added). The Fringe isn't a term he is used to, but it is an idea I think he would be comfortable with, being he takes into account subjective pathe.

An interesting thing to note is that James says that our experience is determined by what we elect to focus on, that is, we select what to notice of all that is going on around us (SC). E.g., being Roman Catholic, I am more apt to notice the bracelet of saints on the wrist of the clerk at the supermarket then a Buddhist would, for such things are relevant to me, but not necessarily for a Buddhist, even though we are both checked out by the same clerk. Empiricus, on the other hand, speaks of 'passively received phantasia [i.e., appearances]' (OP 377), treating experience as something that simply happens to us.

We can see, then, that our Fringe determines the growth of our Fringe, which can only happen if what composes our experiences are real, that is to say, nothing can't influence us, only something can do that, and for me, the experiences I have had are real, shown by the fact that they've really influenced me. This is where radical empiricism comes into play and where Skepticism and Pragmatism really part ways. Pragmatism holds that if something is experience-able it is real, and if it is real it is experience-able (Radical Empiricism). I might not ever know what this honey's flavor is independent of my own tongue, but there is a sweetness my tongue receives, and I'm interested in finding out what makes this honey sweet, even if just to me. It's real enough to stimulate thought and I will use what I have that works to find out ('there is a living spirit of "sweetness" inhabiting this honey') until what works doesn't cut it anymore (cue 'scientific advancement'), then I will find some other 'truth' that will work (a certain chemical compound reacts to certain receptors on a certain part of my tongue, stimulating a certain part of my brain, registering 'sweetness').

The Skeptic:

Those who claim that the Skeptics deny appearances seem to me not to have heard what we say. For...we do not reject the things that lead us involuntarily to assent in accord with a passively received phantasia, and these are appearances. And when we question whether the external object is such as it appears, we grant that it does appear, and we are not raising a question about the appearance but rather about what is said about the appearance… (OP 377)

He is saying, in a sense, that it works to say that what is experienced appears to be real, but there is no license to make the claim that it is, and it has been shown that he will make every effort, through his modes of epoche, to decimate any postulate concerning reality. He will go with the appearance of the sweetness of honey (OP 377), but since it tastes different to him when he is sick or healthy (OP 380), he won't assent to any idea regarding the nature of honey. I admit that he will use his experience for ‘what works’ to a limited, practical degree—he will eat and enjoy the honey. But any deeper investigation into, e.g., what Aristotle would call a thing’s causes (Physics), isn’t allowed even to get started, let alone flourish. 'Yes, it appears that way, but there's no need to go any deeper than the appearance, for we won't ever be able to know even if we tried.' The search stops. And if all attempts to gain a grasp on reality are undercut before one can get a leg up on understanding the nature of things, before any more-than-day-to-day practical advancement can be made, in an endless cycle of contradiction, what is left for one to do but to simply 'hold to appearances, then,...[and]...live without beliefs...in accord with the ordinary regimen of life [thinking, sensing, eating, following customs and taking up a craft], since we cannot be wholly inactive’ (OP 377, emphasis added, for that word implies the resignation to a life mostly inactive). It is reminiscent of Descartes who, playing the Skeptic, despite the fact that all the world may be maliciously contrived illusion, still got dressed and put logs on the fire, since it appeared necessary if he were to survive long enough to make his inquiry concerning the existence of God and the immortality of the soul, but who also, pragmatically, used what worked so as to progress deeper into said inquiry (Meditations on First Philosophy).

I can hear Empiricus now: 'Be a Skeptic—you'll never give yourself a chance to really live through philosophic and scientific exploration since you'll be spending all of your energy in both contradicting any and every idea that comes your way and in mere physical survival, but you will be able to just get through life without any satisfaction!'

While the Skeptic claims to be on the search for truth, what he is really doing boils down to being contrary toward all declarative and interrogative thought, putting an abrupt halt on all metaphysical and intellectual pursuit. A much more effective approach to epistemology is to do like the Pragmatist--use what works until it doesn't, then evolve.

[[Unrelated topic—I was curious as to whether or not our word ‘empirical’ comes from Sextus Empiricus, for his stance is quite empirical, so I did a little etymological research. It turns out that ‘Empirical derives from the Latin empiricus, which is a transliteration of the Greek empiricos (empirical, experienced; εμπειρικός) from empiria (experience; εμπειρία) from en- (in, with) + pira (experience, trial; πείρα), from the verb pirao (make an attempt, try, test, get experience, endeavour, attack; πειράω)’ (English words of no apparent Greek origin).

So it seems that Empiricus is more a title or description, and not a proper name. The question then remains, did he or his contemporaries dub him such, or was that a description that later, Latin-based students of philosophy eventually coupled to ‘Sextus’?]]

Works Cited

Adler, Mortimer J. Van Doren, Charles. How to read a book: The classic guide to intelligent
reading (1972, 2 ed). New York. Simon & Schuster.

Aristotle. Physics. Translated by R.P. Hardie & P.K. Gaye by permission of Oxford University Press, edited by Louis P. Pojman (1998). Classics of philosophy (2 ed). New York. Oxford University Press.

Descartes, Renee. Meditations on first philosophy. No translator given. 2009. New York.
Classic Books America.

James, William. ‘Conceptions of truth’ edited by Giles Gunn in Pragmatism and other writings.
2000. New York. Penguin Books 2000.

James, William. Essays in radical empiricism and a pluralistic universe. 1967. Gloucester,
MA. Peter Smith Pub Inc.

James, William. ‘Streams of consciousness’ edited by Giles Gunn in Pragmatism and other
writings. 2000. New York. Penguin Books 2000.

James, William. ‘What pragmatism means’ edited by Giles Gunn in Pragmatism and other
writings. 2000. New York. Penguin Books 2000.

English words of no apparent Greek origin. ‘Etymology of empirical-empiric.’ 
http://ewonago.blogspot.com/2009/02/etymology-of-empirical-empiric.html

Sextus Empiricus. Outlines of pyrrhonism. Translated by Benson Mates (1996) by permission of Oxford University Press, edited by Louis P. Pojman (1998). Classics of philosophy (2 ed). New York. Oxford University Press.

Third Sun Rises

There is an old giant
who knows no surprises,
sleeps two days
and on the third sun rises

Plateaus were once mountains
that he squashed flat
and the seas are where
he washes his hat

He's so giant, in fact,
that he can't be seen
And it's impossible to explain
what that even means

The Kraken of lore,
we know that's not true
Funny, because that's what
this giant thinks of you

To him our story
has come and will go
Just another tale
in the endless flow

So he sleeps and rises,
he sits and he waits
And he won't be sure why
until it's probably too late

1/2/10

Notre Dammit!

There's a lot of information behind this, but basically at Notre Dame's most recent graduation ceremonies, when President Obama spoke, a group of Pro-Lifers showed up to peacefully demonstrate in the interest of Life. Apparently 88 of them were arrested for trespassing, while none of the Pro-"Choicers" were.

Basically, this is a petition to the president of Notre Dame (a priest not living up to his calling, apparently), asking him to release the demonstrators. Please sign it.

http://www.tfpstudentaction.net/campaigns/notre-dame-drop-the-charges.html

An Ecumenical Effort

**This post contains spoilers to the Harry Potter series (particularly the final installment, and the Deathly Hallows). You have been warned**

This is all conjecture. Do with it what you will (except consume it with a grain of salt. That will hardly do anything for the flavor).

So we all know Rowling hails from the Presbyterian background (...right?) and we all know that the old Presbyters developed their theology from John Calvin, the sweetheart of a man who, unlike Martin Luther who sought reform, designed to completely break away from the established (thus, at that time, Catholic) church. Basically there was no love lost between those two groups, Calvinists and Catholics, that is, we are all of course aware of denominational disunity ("Oh, they can't be Christians, they...").

Ok, that's the set up. Let's build.

Severus Snape is forever oscillating in our minds from "good guy" to "bad guy." It's never clear where he stands. "If he's a good guy, which that action makes him out to be, why is he so mean to Harry that Harry can only hate him back, unless that's for his cover... but still, he doesn't have to be such a jerk," versus, "He's such a jerk. He obviously just did that seemingly good thing just to keep his position of double-double agent intact. He's covering his own ass and he's an ass, to boot!"

Then what happens? (This is where the spoilers come in. Stop teasing yourself if you haven't finished the stories yet. This will ruin it for you!!!). When Snape's ("Professor Snape's, Harry") life is forfeit, and he's in his final moments, he gives Harry his memories, which reveal that Snape's perpetual love for Harry's mom, Lily, was the driving force behind Snape's actual working-for-the-good-guys work. We see that, while Snape truly didn't like Harry for Harry's resemblance to his father James, and treated him thusly, Snape was doing all he could to subvert, and surreptitiously help Harry eventually end, Voldemort's reign of terror for love of Harry's mother.

In the epilogue, when Harry's son, Albus Severus Potter, is anxious about which House he will be sorted into ("...not Slytherin..."), Harry tells his son that he's named for two Hogwarts headmasters, one of which is from Slytherin, and "he's the bravest man I've ever known."

When Harry sees the fullness of gravity of the position Snape put himself in--and more importantly, why--he doesn't just say "Oh, cool. Snape was good after all. Sweet." No! His entire perception--thoughts and feelings--change. Snape is now the bravest man Harry knows. He now is filled with such respect and admiration for the man that Harry names his very son after him. Think about it. How could you think or feel anything but all of this for the person who loves your mother so much that he puts himself in the position of physical torture, mutilation and humiliation just for the memory of her, just for her progeny (who he personally hates!).

Rowling's message to the Calvinistic world (and Christian world at large)? How can Catholics, who we see as having perpetrated injustices throughout Church history (to say nothing of the injustices all denominations have perpetrated since the beginning of their own personal histories) and who we think are just off theologically really be as bad as we think they are when they love the Blessed Mother of Our Lord (Luke 1.43,48) as much as they do?

How indeed, Mrs. Rowling? How indeed?

([{And, Chris, Aaron, this isn't the piece I've alluded to. No, that one is far more brilliant and dazzling to look at (if it ever gets finished)}]).

A note of praise

You allow for me to be who I truly am.

You have proven my worth through Your Incarnation, You have shown Your Love through Your Passion and You have redeemed my life through Your Resurrection.

Our nature is irrevocably united to Yours through Your Divine Person, the Son, the Eternal Word, Jesus the Christ.

Man is blessed in all Creation and every human person--an alloy of the Divine--shines like the sun and deserves every fiber of love the Divine can eek through me.

Lord, pick up my nature once more in Your Personhood and give me the grace to love with all of Us.

Amen+

Stop Me if You’ve Heard This One…

**This conversation never actually took place**

During the Pope’s recent apostolic visit to the United States, while at a forum in Washington, DC, a Baptist minister stood up to test Benedict XVI.

“What must I do to be saved?”

“What is written in the Bible? How do you read it?”

“Accept Jesus into your heart as your personal Lord and Savior.”

The Pope said in reply, “You have answered correctly. Do this and you will live.”

But he wanted to justify himself and asked the Pope, “What does it mean to ‘accept Jesus into your heart’?”

In reply, the Pope said: “There was a poor man, a crackhead, on your streets. He came to the States from South America, because the living conditions back home were no longer viable. You see, a certain corporation moved their coffee bean field outside his village and the chemicals used to catalyze the growing process poisoned the water table underground, rendering all the well water in the region undrinkable.

“He knocked on the door of a church in the first major city he could hitchhike to, thinking to himself, ‘A Christian, and that in the Land of Opportunity, shall understand my plight and give me honest work.’ The man who answered the door, a right-wing evangelical pastor who bled Red-White-and-Blue, turned this man away for he was dirty and could not speak English. After repeated events such as this, the only work the man could find was dealing drugs to others in differing yet similar situations on the same harsh street.

“A representative from ACLU, doing an investigation on the poor living conditions of the residential motels in this man’s area, took pity on this man and fought to make sure this man, and those like him, had honest work and decent housing, despite his past, his economic status and his ability to speak the local language. This representative also connected with Green Peace to fight the unjust practices of the corporation who made this man’s homeland unlivable to begin with.

“Tell me, which do you think was the one who accepted Jesus into his heart?”

The minister replied, “The one who lived out John 13.35: ‘…you are my disciples if you love one another.’”

The Pope told him, “Go, and do likewise.”

**Note: As Jesus didn’t think priests and Levites were inherently bad (being He is the one Who founded their roles), so too this is not a blanket statement concerning right wing, patriotic evangelicals. The point (concerning this specific aspect of this piece) is that we need to make a distinction between cultural Christianity and real Christianity.**

Cloud Ripper

It wasn’t quite 5 and I was awoken by the alarm on Erik’s watch.

“How’d you sleep?” I eeked out.

“Ughh, I’m beginning to hate that question. Not very well. The wind was blowing dirt in my face all night.”

“Yeah, these little tents are awful.”

We placed and turned on our headlamps so we could put on as much of our gear inside the sorry-excuse-for-a-tent as we could before being forced into the cold of the early morning wilderness. I wasn’t too worried about it, though. My mind was captivated by the plan of the day. “This is going to be awesome.”

We crawled out from under the tarp held up by one little pole and tied down by 4 little stakes and saw our comrades doing the same. Off to my left, Zach was climbing out of his sleeping bag. “That guy has no interest in tents. Man, that’s hardcore.”

“Everyone ready? We’re gonna eat on the trail, so put your foodbars where you can reach ‘em,” said Jordan, our fearless leader for the day, as he was handing out our breakfast. A surge of nervous energy coursed through, if not the team, at least me. This was the first time I’d ever really been out in the wilderness, let alone would climb an actual mountain. Ah yeah.

That early in the morning, the only noise we heard was the rustling of synthetic pants and the stomping of heavy boots. I found myself colder than I had expected 20 minutes in, so when we stopped at a fork in the trail, I took the opportunity to put on the head-wrap I picked up in Jordan. I was probably the only ninja to have taken that trail in some time.

Jordan: “I think it’s this way.”

Fifteen minutes later, “No, it was the other way.” So back we went.

After twisting and curving and climbing and descending (but mostly climbing), we came out in a valley surrounded by mountain peaks. We had turned off our headlamps some time ago and with the position of the sun we could see all around. It was probably the most beautiful open field I had ever seen. We were walking alongside a little brook, there was tall brown grass covering the landscape, along the bed of the brook there were green bushes and around the perimeter of the valley were beautiful large, green trees. It was a good time to take a break and refill our water supply.

“How’s everybody doing?” Jordan asked just before we were to hit the trail again. “That’s our goal over there—Cloud Ripper.” He was pointing at one of the many peaks surrounding us. It wasn’t quite the farthest, but it was definitely the tallest.

Now that we were all wide-awake and back in the groove of trekking, you could hear us a mile away. This trek was a part of our “Intro Trip,” in the first week of our Wild DTS (that is, Discipleship Training School). We were still getting to know each other. Erik, who wound up being my best friend in the school, was from Tennessee, just outside of Nashville. I took to calling him a hippy, although he was really only “Granola.”

The more we walked, the less easily discernable path we had. We came upon mostly rocky ground, with some trees interspersed here and there. Our guide now was simply a path of karyns, little piles of rocks stacked on top of each other, marking out the trail.

We stopped at the base of a mountain made up entirely of, so it seemed, jagged, grey rocks varying in size from 1 foot across to the size of a very large man. “We’re at a saddle, which is the lowest point between two mountain peaks. If we were trying to cross the mountain, this is where we’d do it. We’re going to climb to the top of the saddle then walk along it to get to our peak. We’re going to climb making switch-backs (instead of climbing straight up against the steep grade of the mountain, we make wide zig-zags up the slope). And watch your fall line. Don’t climb directly under someone above you and make sure you aren’t climbing with someone in-line under you. These rocks are very loose and very dangerous. If you happen to kick one loose, yell ‘Rock!’ to let those below you know. We’ll take another break once we’re up the saddle.”

Off we went. Now, I’m pretty good about taking the advice of people who know what they’re talking about. I usually do, just not always. This was definitely one of the “not always” times. After zigging and zagging for a bit, feeling like I was going nowhere, and the appearance of our goal seeming, from my angle, not too far off, I decided to go for it. I threw myself up the slope, clambering for the top of the saddle. It took less than 7 minutes for me to resort to switching back again. Man, that bolt wore me out. I even had to take off my ninja head wrap.

I can’t tell you how much time it took for us to make it to the top of the saddle, but it definitely took some! As we were climbing, we all looked around, checking each other’s progress, yelling out encouragements as needed and calling out warning due to falling rocks. We slowly made it, one by one, and took a much-needed rest. Despite our weariness, our excitement only grew after the victory of this first leg. And I’ll tell you what, for as cold as it was making our way to the mountain, it was nothing compared to the chill and wind of being on that saddle. The wind was blowing so strongly that, when we jumped straight up, we would land a couple feet back from where we started. It was a little scary being on the top of a steep, rocky slope with powerful wind wanting to blow us back down. And that’s exactly why I was loving it. Well, the danger and the magnificent view. The field in the valley on the side we came up looked so beautiful, with the brook running through it, splitting here and there, coming back together; the giant white and grey rocks strewn about; the patches of green trees. The other side’s view was of grey rocks and brown dirt and 3 or 4 giant blue lakes. The land stretched for miles, as did the mountain range. We could even see trails on the distant mountains.

We took some pictures, I grabbed a rock for my mom (I still haven’t given it to her), I put my Jordanian ninja-wrap back on and off we went. The terrain didn’t change much as we walked across the spine of this mountain, ever nearer its peak. It just got steeper. And steeper.

As we snaked along from peak to peak, on the very ridge of the mountain, I became quite familiar with a mountaineering term that you may not have heard. Do you know what a “false peak” is? A false peak, or false summit, is, while looking up the mountain while hiking, you can’t see any mountain above and beyond a certain peak. You think that the peak you are now climbing towards is the highest point of the mountain, that this is your goal. Well… you’re wrong. Once you painstakingly make it to that point, you see beyond it much more mountain to go. So you go. And you get duped time and time again. I got to the point of not caring. “Whatever. I’m not going to get excited anymore! I’ll climb till I’m done climbing!” So I did. False peak, wrong peak, whatever. Keep moving!

At one point, there was a giant patch of what was once snow, but was now ice in the guise of snow, on the north side of the peak. Because it was out of the sun, it never thoroughly melted. It would just melt enough to be re-frozen during the night, making it densely packed ice. We still tried to scrape it into balls and pelt each other. A couple of us guys even wrote our names, *a-hem*.

Upward and onward we climbed. We came to a small collection of peaks, each within 100 or so feet of each other. We took a second to gauge which was the highest, then found it! The peak of Cloud Ripper! Just over to the west, not 200 feet away! We all made a mad scramble to the peak, throwing caution to the wind! (Not really, we were always very safe). We had newfound energy with the exhilaration coursing through our veins.

At long last, at the very least 4 hours since we left camp, we did it! We stood in triumph! We had bagged the mountain! All 13,501 feet of Cloud Ripper was now under my belt. I had climbed my first mountain!

I even made a point to sit (I dare not stand!) on the pinnacle of the pinnacle! There was also a journal in a watertight container lodged in the rocks at the top. We each joined the list of names of all the people who had come before us. I left a little note, too. I don’t remember exactly what it said, but something about the goodness, glory and beauty of God.

This was the first week I had ever gone backpacking in my life. It was the first time I had done any real physical exertion since junior high. I had smoked my last cigarette only days before this trek. It had only been 7 months since I came back to God, giving up my intentional, out-right rebellion and smoking crystal meth. Despite all of that, God Himself gave me the grace to kick my own ass and know Him, love Him, follow Him, learn from Him and enjoy Him at the peak of this mountain, in the middle of the Eastern Sierra Nevada Mountain Range.

The view before, back on the saddle, was nothing compared to the view atop Cloud Ripper. We could see miles and miles of mountaintops stretching all around us. We could see lake after lake peppering the landscape. And, in the style of our mountain’s namesake, we were enveloped by clouds all around us. I wanted to grab one like Jasmine, in Aladdin, but alas, they weren’t that close. God is beautiful and God is strong. If ever you have doubts, just look at His creation. It’s a reflection of Him, so we can know and love Him better.

After some more pictures, we descended less than 50 feet, so as to get out of the harsh wind, ate an energy packed snack and began our long journey back to camp.