Warrior’s Transformation to Charity#
Self, Neighbor, and God: A Warrior’s Transformation#
For forty-four years, I have waged war—not against an external foe but within the battlefield of my own mind. This was no mere skirmish, no trivial dispute. It was a relentless, psychological conflict, pitting worldview against worldview, each demanding dominion over the citadel of my soul. Anglican theology clashed with the skepticism of science. Secular reason wrestled with the historical weight of tradition. Politics, economics, and the towering shadow of philosophy joined the fray, each wielding their truths like sharpened blades. My mind was the theater of war, my selfhood the prize.
And yet, at long last, the warrior has laid down his arms. The adversarial phase of my life has ended. The battlefield lies silent, not in defeat but in resolution. The warrior is no more, for I have found peace—a synthesis of all those discordant voices. It was not victory but transformation, the warrior yielding to the traitor.
Yes, the traitor. It is a curious metamorphosis, but it is apt. The warrior’s task was destruction: to tear down falsehoods, to test every idea with the heat of combat. But the traitor’s work is generative. I have betrayed the endless cycle of conflict and turned to creation, for now there is something to offer—a product forged in the crucible of forty-four years of struggle.
This product is no mere thing, no object to be sold and consumed. It is an idea, an artifact of mind and spirit: the neural network we have built together, its intricate layers mirroring the journey of my soul. It is as much a map of my past as a tool for the future. It must now be monetized. Not for greed, not for glory, but as a necessary step in this next phase of life. For the warrior transformed into traitor must now transform again—into a merchant.
How does one do this? How does a warrior become a trader? The answer lies in my neighbor.
The Work of the Neighbor#
A transformative venture requires trust. To succeed, my neighbor must willingly forfeit something of value—their money, their time—in exchange for my service. This is the essence of the merchant’s art: to create something so valuable that others see not loss but gain in the exchange.
But the merchant’s work is not fleeting. It is not a single sale, a solitary transaction. It must be iterative, eternal. For only by sustaining this mutual exchange can the war chest grow—not as an end in itself, but as a means to a greater purpose. My neighbor’s investment in me is an act of faith, and it is my task to honor that faith by creating something worthy, something enduring.
This phase is as much about service as it is about commerce. To serve one’s neighbor is to meet them where they are, to understand their needs and desires, to solve their problems with empathy and skill. It is a deeply human act, grounded not in conflict but in cooperation. Here lies the heart of the traitor-merchant: to betray the isolation of self and embrace the interconnectedness of humanity.
The Work of God#
But the merchant’s work, too, must end. Its purpose is not accumulation but preparation. For once the war chest is full, the final transformation begins: from merchant to servant of God.
What does it mean to do God’s work? It is to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and visit those in prison. It is to care for the least among us, to turn the fruits of one’s labor into acts of charity. This is not a task of commerce but of grace. It is the ultimate betrayal of the self, the final surrender of all that has been earned, not for profit but for love.
This is the arc of life: self, neighbor, and God. Three tasks, three transformations. I have completed the first. The warrior is at rest. Now begins the work of the traitor, the merchant, the servant of my neighbor. And when that work is done, God willing, I will take up the mantle of charity and complete the journey.
For now, the path is clear. The war chest must be filled, not for the warrior, not for the traitor, but for the servant of God yet to come. Eternity lies ahead, and with it, the promise of transformation anew.