Welcome to Missives from the Edge

‘Wrongthink’ from the Pacific Rim for the Christ-curious and the churchy-jaded

Photo: Meg Mittelstedt

“We read to know we are not alone.”

—C.S. Lewis

I suspect C.S. Lewis would have liked this platform. If there was ever a community for people who read to know that they are not alone, it is Substack. You can find almost any community here, convened around a writer who had the tenacity to identify a need and act upon it.

As a book coach, I tell my writers that we also write to know that we are not alone. We write to put words to the thoughts we’ve heard no one else voice, in the hope that we will find others who understand what we are thinking and perhaps even share the same conviction or concern. In such conversation, our thinking is sharpened and shaped.

It is the urge of both the writer and the reader combining that leads me to convene Missives from the Edge—a platform to bring together two groups who may feel quite alone in today’s public discourse. As a writer who for years has struggled with a cultural chasm I was told I could not cross—between faith and society—I’ve seen the need for thoughtful dialogue that is neither mainstream nor fringe, that does not fall into the secular/sacred false divide, that is fearless and won’t be restricted to or from the public sphere, where we’re told faith is only ‘personal’.

As I explain in my introductory post, I’ve been involved in media in various forms for several decades. Formally completing my masters of Journalism in 2014, I’d already been writing for publication for a good portion of my life. During that time, I was told I had to choose to speak to one side or the other of this faith/society divide.

However, as a book coach, I constantly coach others on how to learn—and then break—the rules of writing. I’ve decided it’s time to coach myself to break the rules: don’t let others force a “voice” or an audience onto you. Missives from the Edge is the candle I’m holding out into that apparent chasm, announcing that we can speak into the intersection of both these realms.

Therefore, Missives from the Edge speaks into the heart of both thoughtful society and deep faith. It draws together two audiences: the Christ-curious who won’t settle for easy answers, and alongside them, people familiar and perhaps a bit jaded with Christian culture, but who find themselves labeled “wrongthinking.” Though often construed as being on “opposing” sides, my conviction is that these groups have more in common than they realize. Both these groups know something is deeply amiss in the world today—and that the vocal majority are afraid to acknowledge this.

(A note here about what I mean by “churchy-jaded.” I’m talking about those who are weary of a so-called church culture that speaks mostly to itself with words that have had the meaning worn off of them, due to a lack of lived examples of these truths. I could have said “Christianese-jaded,” but that is quite a mouthful. Probably, if you are this person, you don’t need me to explain further. You’ve been surrounded by this tone-deaf reality for far too long.)

Why Missives?

By creating space for non-polarized, nuanced and intelligent dialogue, Missives from the Edge will be a place for a meeting of minds at a crucial time in history of growing societal disintegration. The intent is to be a place for the intersection of these two Venn circle audiences, to realize that they are not alone, to hear from each other, and to deepen their articulation of the journey and of a map forward. I count on this becoming a dialogue where deep listening holds sway.

“I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam.”

—Frodo, The Return of the King

I’m happy to be with you, at this time in history—here “at the end of all things,” which is often how this time in history feels. But, if you are a Tolkien fan, you likely already know that the “end of all things” is actually a eucatastrophe: a beginning of all things. At the moment of deepest catastrophe, the brightest light may shine. That’s the light I’m interested in holding out, together, into the encroaching dusk.

So, if you’ve made it this far, past the “wrongthink,” past the Tolkien reference, past the “Christ-curious” and the “churchy-jaded,” then welcome! Welcome home. We’ve found each other.

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What We Do Here

We’ll investigate this intersection of society and deep faith: ancient faith, hard faith, quiet faith. Not your average, run-of-the-mill, North American Christianity, which has likely had its day in the sun anyway. We’ll talk about subjects and viewpoints that are unpopular on all sides of the public square. Intellect will be welcome, but intellectualism not admired. Kindness, intimate faith, and love toward others still rule the day.

(Intellectualism, by the way, in my definition is the worship of our own intellect, always at the expense of love for others. It can otherwise be known by that oh-so-descriptive phrase, intellectual wanking. Exactly what it sounds like—ineffectual pontificating and posturing for the ego’s sake.)

As writer and a Christian, I have the instinct for considering the other side, for perhaps taking the “wrong” point of view, for asking what is being missed. I have the instinct for “unveiling,” if you will—looking for the unseen and unspoken within public and private discourse, for mining what is at work beneath the surface.

What Edge(s)?

This is one of the “edges” I’m speaking from in Missives from the Edge: points of view often labeled unacceptable or ‘fringe’. Voices that don’t fit into one side of a false dichotomy or another. I, for one, am convinced that we need to hear these voices in order to expand our fast-narrowing and deep-polarizing public discourse. As the Canadian bard, Bruce Cockburn, sang in Maybe the Poet (1984):

“Maybe you and he will not agree
But you need him to show you the ways to see.

Pay attention to the poet
You need him and you know it.”

There’s long been a link between the poetic and the prophetic voice. Hopefully, at its best, Missives from the Edge will be both.

One of the other “edges” I’m speaking from is the Pacific Rim. There is something unique to having lived here on the edge of the Pacific, in Vancouver, British Columbia for the last three-and-a-half decades. I fit with old Vancouver’s crunchy-con vibe, its green-loving altruism, its innovative and multicultural roots. However, there is a growing unease inside me that Vancouver has passed its halcyon days, and is now entering a new twilight. Its overcrowding, homelessness, expanding inter-ethnic violence and growing reputation as a playland for the rich are just a couple of the symptoms of this new twilight. And I see Vancouver as being on the forefront of where most of the world is heading.

Speaking from this other edge, then, we’ll talk about what it means to tend a place, what it means to resist the Machine (thanks, Paul Kingsnorth), and what it means to embody the King as a beggar in a society on the edge of disintegration. I hope we will find examples of modern saints quietly living as Christ-with-skin-on/reflections of Jesus. I’ll be searching for examples of a living faith, for those rebuilding in the midst of the rubble, and also for stories of those Christ-curious, who are perhaps waking up to the realization that ancient Christianity is the way forward for society. I’ll be asking all of you to provide suggestions of individuals who fit these descriptions.

Maybe, just maybe, we’ll become the beggar in disguise for someone else, as we each find the courage to speak from our own authentic self.

Should you subscribe?

Join us. You’ll receive fortnightly, thoughtful missives from the edges of society, near the end of continents and history. At our best, Missives will be prophetic voices speaking into the chaos—which means voices of love. We hope to convene a conversation in the same spirit that moves us all collectively forward.

Here’s what you’ll get:

  • The fortnightly update: Missives from the Edge. A shot of thoughtful, sometimes provocative analysis of issues at the intersection of faith and society.

  • Occasional short notes, longform essays and book reviews.  

  • Candle Profiles that celebrate businesses going the extra mile.

  • The Hidden Life Profiles of everyday people quietly making a difference.

As of November 2024, I am moving Missives from the Edge to a patronage subscription model. This means I am enabling payments but leaving my content outside of the paywall, for now. We’ll see how it goes. If you’d like to support me in this work, I encourage you to subscribe. This will help me to know that you value this community and my writing.

On that note, allow me to conclude with the sign-off with which I’m going to end all of my pieces:

Your voice is needed, and we’d love to hear it in the comments below. However, if you choose to abandon the voice of love[1] in your comments, remember that you are abandoning all of your beneficial power.

Love is the most powerful force in the universe, alone having the ability to create change for the better. Indeed, it is the only force that ever has.[2]


[1] Love doesn’t mean sloppy sentimentalism: love speaks the hard truth, yet considers others before itself.

[2] With a nod to Margaret Mead.

Thanks for reading Missives from the Edge! If you’d like to support me in this work, I encourage you to subscribe.

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Wrongthink from the Pacific Rim for the Christ-curious and the churchy-jaded.

People

Life-long writer and editor, trained old-school journalist at UBC Graduate School of Journalism (MJ '14), book coach, lover of the Book of Creation, person of the Book, warrior poet.