I began writing a blog in the fall of 2013.
My intentions were pure - at first. Having begun seminary the year prior, I now had all this information up in my head and nothing to do with it. With little opportunity yet to do the work of ministry, I wanted to put my education to use while working on my communication skills. While I had never enjoyed writing previously, it was one of the many new joys that Jesus gave me when I came to faith in 2010. Blogging, then, seemed like the best way to grow in my skills while doing something I enjoyed.
Pure intentions turned sour quickly, however. Tim Challies and The Gospel Coalition were all the rage in my circles then, and I soon became convinced that I could be like them. No, not like them; I could write pieces that were even better. After all, as a new Christian, my perspective wasn’t bound to old ways of seeing things. I could approach Reformed Evangelicalism with fresh eyes. I was unique. I could stand out!
I think this is the first time I’ve given voice to my pride and immaturity, but I see them clearly now even if I couldn’t – or wouldn’t – then. Having gone through a sudden and unexpected conversion, I convinced myself that my story had many parallels with the conversion of the Apostle Paul. I even titled my blog Going to Damascus, as if my journey somehow paralleled the journey of one of the greatest Christian thinkers in history. If only someone had told me then that if I wanted to be like Paul, maybe I should just chill out for a few years and focus on caring for the people right in front of me (Galatians 1:17-18).
Soon I found myself doing all the things a prideful wanna-be famous blogger should be doing, and all the things a new husband and future pastor should not be doing. I paid a graphic designer to use on my special edition posts (weekly article roundups and excerpts from old theologians). I stayed up all night arguing with people writing comments on my posts. I spent countless hours (Hundreds? Thousands?) being critical about the way other Christians did things.
My heart was cold and bitter. My marriage suffered.
None of this was lost on Jesus, however. Through a difficult season – including multiple deep wounds in the church, miscarriage, and financial hardship – the Lord broke my heart open. As my understanding of my Christian faith matured, so too did my understanding of ministry and my purpose in caring for others. Whatever skills and joy I found in writing before was repurposed for more appropriate ends.
Rather than writing academic and critical pieces, I began writing more about my personal faith journey and issues I was confronting in ministry. I wrote about issues I confronted in evangelism with real people as one one who understood skeptical bitterness well. I wrote about community building as one laboring to help the church I pastored grow in their ministry to each other and their neighbors. I wrote about depression and anxiety as one who mourned his brother, suffered himself, and cared for others in their suffering.
To convey this change in my heart, I dropped the name Going to Damascus and simply adopted a website with my name: benhein.us (way cheaper than .com!). My blog evolved into a place for me to mature as a writer, thinker, pastor. I felt very fortunate when my writing blessed others in meaningful ways.
I still didn’t want to admit that my writing had become, or could become, a ministry. Conceiving of my words as a ministry rather than a place of personal growth is scary. If my website is just a place for personal development, then it’s no big deal if no one else reads it. And if others benefit? Then that is a welcome surprise.
But as a ministry? Now I have an audience. When the words are received well, I’ve done my job. But if I write something that no one reads, then what?
It makes me feel vulnerable, and I don’t like it.
Someone I respect recently said to me, “I can tell you want to write a book, and I’m confident you will.” I immediately rejected the idea, even though they were trying to pay me a compliment. To want more for my writing feels like an invitation to disappointment and failure. Even so, I can’t shake the desire that I would like to see my writing grow in its depth and breadth.
My context has changed from a suburban pastor to an urban church planter and community leader. With a change in context has come a change in my focus and interests as well. While I formerly addressed middle-class skeptics, Christian professionals, and suburban young adults, I now find myself writing to the needs of the urban ministry context. Principally, these needs revolve around a Christian approach to ethical issues and social justice.
In my doctoral studies at Fuller Seminary, I am attempting to apply Reformed and Neo-Calvinist ethics and ecclesiology to the needs of the urban context. I believe my faith tradition has much to say to the questions and issues my neighbors face. Too often, however, Reformed folk have been known for a doctrinal spiritualism that minimizes the ethical embodiedness demanded by our tradition.
So, these are the things I write about. Occasionally I might adapt a recent sermon into a shorter written piece. However, if you want to know the principal focus of my writing ministry, I can think of no greater summary than this: “Reformed ethics and Neo-Calvinism for the urban ministry context.”
But why a Substack?
After nearly 11 years on Wordpress, I confess this also feels like a very vulnerable change. However, I have been told by several people I trust that it’s time for me to make the switch. If I want to take my writing seriously, which includes growing my audience, then Substack is the place to be.
In addition, Substack provides a way for me to explore making money from what I write. I never intend to add exclusive benefits to a subscription on my Substack – even if I wanted to, I simply do not have the time. Nevertheless, the pieces I write do take up a considerable amount of time. On average, an article might take me 2 to 4 hours. The articles I enjoy writing most involve a considerable amount of research (my wife likes to say that I assign myself research papers and she’s not wrong) and might take me 8 to 12 hours.
Given the time commitment my writing takes, I want to provide an opportunity for you to pay or tip me for my writing if you have the means and are inclined to do so. I’ve set monthly and yearly subscriptions to the minimum rate allowed ($5 and $50) and will include a tip link through Stripe on every post for one-time smaller amounts.
In the months ahead I will be writing new articles, republishing old ones, and re-working articles that I wish I would have written differently. As a church planter, doctoral student, husband, and father to four children, I cannot guarantee a consistent schedule. Ideally, I’ll get two or three new articles up each month.
We’ll see.
This Substack is the next step forward for me in my writing journey. Rather, my writing ministry. Someone tell Brené that I’m embracing vulnerability. I’m sure she’ll be proud.
One of the best ways you can support my work is sharing what you read with others. I really appreciate it!