Confessions of a Spiritual Arsonist: Fighting Culture Wars Without Losing My Soul

A scant three months ago, when I first started writing The Scott Sheet, I wanted it to walk a line. Something sharp. Something honest. Political, yes, but personal, too. I wanted to show you my fortitude and my heart. And in the early days, I tried. I’d write some things in my Jesus and the Average Joe section. I’d write about political issues through a Biblical worldview.

Then the numbers started rolling in.

You didn’t click for “gentle nuance.” You clicked when I lit the fuse and dropped political TNT into the echo chamber. The louder I got, the more you shared. The more I roasted, the more you came back for seconds. The Scott Sheet quickly became known for fire. And let’s be clear – some things absolutely deserve it.

Garbage policy is garbage policy, and stupid ideas and actions are stupid ideas and actions. I’m not going to stand quietly while people pretend men can have babies, or turn classrooms into laboratories for the ideology of the month. When truth gets dragged behind the activist parade float and children get sacrificed on the altar of identity, silence is complicity.

But if I’m being honest with you – and I always will be – that fire started to scorch more than it lit. I’ve hurled truth like a grenade and walked away from the blast like the people in the radius didn’t matter. Sometimes I aimed at ideas. Sometimes, if I’m really honest, I aimed at people. Sometimes I blurred that line so hard it stopped being a line at all.

That’s on me.

Paul writes in Colossians (This morning I read this and it has been haunting me all day) that we’re supposed to clothe ourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. And if that list didn’t already hit hard enough, he adds, “And over all these, put on love.”

I read that and thought, “Yeah, that’s beautiful.” Then five minutes later I opened Twitter and let someone have it like it was a full-time job with benefits.

It’s easier to roast than to reach. Easier to win an argument than to love the person who’s wrong. I’ve walked into more political conversations looking like a spiritual streaker – no humility, no compassion, just sarcasm and a Bible verse slapped on like a bumper sticker.

And that’s not the calling. That’s just ego in a Jesus costume.

Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not becoming soft. I’m not about to “both sides” this cultural mess we’re in. If the left is pushing policy that turns kids into experiments and bulldozes truth in the name of tolerance, I’m going to call it what it is. I’m not clapping politely while everything burns. I will not put on a fake smile and call that love.

But I also can’t keep firing off truth while forgetting the human being on the other end. If I lose love, I lose everything. Even if I’m right. Especially when I’m right.

Compassion doesn’t mean agreement. It means remembering that the person shouting “men can get pregnant” is still a person. Made in the image of God. The image bearer. Humility doesn’t mean pretending all ideas are equal. It means remembering that I didn’t write truth – I just get to carry it. And patience? That one’s the hardest. I want revival by Wednesday and repentance by Friday. But God moves more slowly than my opinion pieces.

Forgiveness? That’s extinct in modern politics. We cancel. We smear. We archive every post like we’re building a case file. We save those receipts! Ya, it’s wrong. Because forgiveness isn’t a suggestion. It’s a command. Even when it’s inconvenient. Even when they don’t deserve it. Especially then.

Paul says put on love. Like a jacket you don’t leave home without. Because if you don’t, everything else falls off. And let’s be real. A lot of us are out here yelling about morality with our spiritual pants around our ankles.

So here’s what I’m saying.

I’m still in the fight. I’m still swinging. The stakes are too high not to. But I’m done doing it like a spiritual caveman with Wi-Fi. I’m done thinking fire alone is enough. From now on, I fight dressed. In truth. In compassion. In humility. And yeah, with a heavy dose of sarcasm – because apparently that’s just part of how I’m wired.

If I’ve burned too hot before, I’m sorry. I need grace like anyone else.

But don’t confuse that with retreat.

I’m still coming for the lies. Still calling out the nonsense. Still pointing to the better way.

I’m just not doing it spiritually naked anymore.