From the Salmon

One of the topics I’ve been wrestling with for a long time, but with particular interest and vigor in the last several months, is the relationship between the church and American politics. A primary reason I started writing this site was because I wanted to tackle this subject in a more disciplined way.

So far, I think I’ve written a handful of worthwhile posts, but honestly, these have only nibbled around the edges. For the last week or so, I’ve been writing and rewriting a few more substantial posts in my head, but I just can’t get them out. So instead, I’ve treaded water, posting interesting links in hopefully clever ways, but not really saying much.

Why has this been so hard for me? It’s a topic that fascinates me, there’s an overabundance of material to work from these days (although that might be part of the problem right there), and I haven’t really had much difficulty talking about it or writing about it until recently.

One of the reasons may be that I have a lot more questions than answers right now. My wife is brilliant at asking questions; it’s how she’s wired. Me? I’ve always been more comfortable writing answers (or attempts at answers) than questions. It’s not that I’m not curious. But part of my growth as a writer and a person will be in becoming someone who can pose meaningful questions and be more comfortable stating what I don’t know.

Another reason may be that I’m stymied by the public nature of this medium. I’m new at this and it’s not the same as writing on my own or to a good friend. It’s not that I have grand illusions that a lot of people are reading what I write (my hits have spiked recently, but mostly because I misspelled Sistine a few days ago and am now number one in Google for people looking for the ”Sweet Sistene” ). But a few people are, and others will stop by in the future.

In some ways, I’ve had difficulty deciding what voice I’m going to use. What’s the best way to describe the anger, frustration, shame, bewilderment and even horror I’ve felt in reaction to the loudest voices claiming Christianity in the political arena over the last few weeks?

The path of least resistance would be to become Caustic Angry Bitter Rant Guy. I’d be pretty good at it. And that might feel better for a while. But in the past, I’ve found that when catharsis wears off, it just makes me even more sad. As I’ve had to say in apologies to friends, sanctimony just doesn’t look good on me. Besides, I see just how ugly that anger can get by walking the streets of Berkeley every day. And it certainly doesn’t lead anywhere close to the way of grace.

So I’d like to channel my frustrations toward something more constructive. But as I’ve tried to find the right tone and the right words, I’ve been haunted (in a good way) by a post that Brandon wrote more than two weeks ago about the character of useful dissent. Brandon proposes that dissent should be respectful (truth-seeking, not self-serving), confessional (presented graciously and humbly while acknowledging my own failings), and thoughtful (as opposed to a lot of the knee-jerk demagoguery and cheap snark that passes for dissent on the internet these days).

Brandon’s post was timely. It reminded me of how I’ve tried to approach argumentative and persuasive writing in the past. But it’s also shut me down a little. Because, truth be told, following this model is a lot harder than being Caustic Rant Guy. I’m sure I’ll fall far short of this goal much of the time. But I think it’s a noble one. And it’s worth throwing away a few drafts for.

All this is to say, I’m still figuring things out. Thanks for your patience.